


Pixie Dust Never Lies (AUs)

by Verkaiking



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Outlaw Queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verkaiking/pseuds/Verkaiking
Summary: A series of one-shots and prompts for AU verses.





	1. Love Was There All Along

**Author's Note:**

> Moving my works from FFn. Some of this stuff is very early writing from me so there will be mistakes, I apologize for those in advance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding date trope.

This is crazy. Absolutely crazy.

Even as she walks to his place, Regina still can't believe she's doing it. If you'd asked her a year, a week, hell even a day ago, if she would stoop this low to avoid her mother's scrutiny, she wouldn't be caught dead admitting it. Now, though, now that Zelena has announced her engagement, which means their mother's criticism will fall solely on Regina's choices in life and her lack of a husband at thirty-one years old, she's desperate.

Having Henry at twenty had been tough, and she'd had to put him first and made many sacrifices, including opting out of the life she wanted for herself, but she didn't regret it, she didn't regret any of it. So she's not a famous chef in a New York City restaurant like she'd wanted to be, and instead found herself running Mrs. Lucas's catering business, big deal. Truth is, she loves her job, and the hours allow for her to spend time with her son, whom she adores more than anything else in the world.

But Cora Mills does not care that Regina likes her life, she cares that Regina is shaming the family legacy by scampering off to work in a small town instead of embracing the life that had been planned out for her from the start.

Regina is used to being the black sheep of the family. Her father had been a kind man, and when she'd fallen in love with Daniel, a kind young man of meager means, and gotten pregnant with his child, her mother had tried to get her to terminate the pregnancy or give up the child, but Henry Sr. had helped and defended Regina's right to make a life of her own, far away from the ridiculous debutant balls and social-climbing protocols her mother and sister seemed so fond of. However, when her boyfriend and her father had died within a month of each other (first Daniel, killed by a drunk driver, then Henry Sr. from a heart attack), Regina was left sad and alone, with a two year old child and a mother who did not miss an opportunity to tell her eldest daughter just how much of a disappointment she was, so she'd packed her and baby Henry's essentials, asked her sister to drop her off at the station, and hopped on the first bus out of Boston, a bus that had led them here, to Storybrooke, Maine, where she took a job as a waitress at Granny's Diner and worked her way up until the old woman deemed her ready and able to run the catering branch of the restaurant by herself. Slowly but surely, Regina has built a life for herself and her son, and she is proud of that accomplishment, regardless of what her mother might think.

Zelena, on the other hand, is younger, smart and beautiful. A successful attorney in Boston, now engaged to some corporate mogul named Gold who owns half the Manhattan skyline. She's Cora's dream daughter, while Regina remains the dirty smudge on the bottom of her very expensive shoe. But despite being so different and enduring their mother's attempt to turn their relationship into something competitive and trite, Regina and Zelena love each other, and it's that love that had pushed Regina to accept her sister's invitation to the wedding, which is to take place in Boston, at their family home, on Christmas Eve.

That is why Regina now finds herself outside the wooden door of room 3B at Granny's, nervously raising her hand to knock.

He opens the door with a start, wondering who could possibly be visiting him at this hour.

"Regina?" he asks, concern immediately marring his features, "what's wrong? Is Henry alright?"

"He's fine, Ruby's with him, I just… need to talk to you."

"At 10pm on a Thursday night?"

"Oh! I didn't even notice the time," she's nervous, her hands trembling as she tries to look anywhere but at him, "I'm sorry, I'll come back tomorrow."

She turns to leave, but he grabs her arm gently, stopping her retreat.

"Regina," he says again, and she melts, as she always does, at the tender way in which he utters her name. They're friends, nothing more, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't find him attractive. Those dimples, that smile, the accent, the firm torso she can feel under the bulky winter jackets he wears, and those kind, very blue eyes that seem to stare right into her soul.

Robin Locksley had arrived in Storybrooke a little over a year ago and rented the largest suite at Granny's for him and his then three year-old son. A widower, escaping the pressures of having to learn to live without his wife in England, where he'd lived all his life and made his home with her before she died minutes after giving birth to their baby boy. He'd been raising Roland by himself ever since, and had taken a job as a landscape designer here, leaving his architecture firm behind in London.

The instant Regina met him at an otherwise dull parent-teacher conference, there had been a connection, an undeniable pull to one another, because they understood, made sense of each other, _to_ each other. It had never been anything more than platonic, both of them reaching an unspoken agreement to put their children first and merely regarding one another as friends. Friends who tell each other everything and hug and hold hands; friends who spend the night at each other's houses on weekends; friends who marathon shows and movies together while their sons play video games in Henry's room; friends who order pizza together or buy ice cream for each other; friends who fall asleep cuddling on the couch; _friends._

"Zelena's getting married," Regina tells him, and there's no need to say anything else, he understands. Robin has not met Cora, or Zelena, but he knows Regina's story, knows how much pain and misery she's suffered at the hands of her mother, knows how much she misses and loves her sister, knows she needs him right now. He opens the door further, letting her in and hugging her tightly as soon as the door closes quietly behind her.

"It's alright," he urges in a whisper, and Regina crumbles in his arms, letting the tears fall as she tells him that she has to go back to that hell hole she called a home, how she hates herself for still being so afraid and affected by her mother, how she really wants to see her sister but doesn't think she can handle Cora's antics.

"She's going to come at me, Robin, she'll find every excuse under the sun to berate me and bring my bitter aunts and cousins into it to help her. I don't think I can deal with that."

"Do you really think she'll want to ruin your sister's wedding like that?"

"She won't care, she's relentless… she'll nag me about my age… and my job, and my lack of a love life. I'm fairly certain the first thing she'll do is humiliate me in front of everyone for being thirty-one and unmarried while my little sister is about to fulfill the 'proper role for a lady of our station'."

They're facing each other as they sit on the couch, Robin's arm on the back of it, playing with her hair as he listens. He always does that, always plays with her hair, sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it, but Regina likes it, finds it soothing, so she never says anything, merely enjoys his attentions.

"Why don't you just tell Zelena you can't make it?"

"I kind of already told her I would," she confesses.

"Why?! Why would you agree to subject yourself to your mother's abuse like that?" he sounds frustrated now, like he can't possibly understand why she'd willingly go see Cora, and Regina hates disappointing him, hates that she's so weak, but hurries to explain.

"She caught me unawares when she called today. I didn't even know she was seeing anyone, she'd never mentioned it, and despite mother, Zelena is my _sister_ , Robin. I love her, and she really does seem happy with this choice. She sends cards to Henry on his birthday, she helped me escape Boston, and always comes to visit so that I don't have to go back. She knows how hard this is for me, but this is important to her. I can't just abandon her on one of the most special days of her life."

"Alright, so what's the plan?" he asks gamely, moving the hand he had in her hair to wipe a few stray tears from her cheeks.

"Be my boyfriend?" she pleads, and then her eyes widen when she realizes the way her question just sounded, and rushes, "I mean, come to Boston with me, _pretend_ you're my boyfriend so that my mother and my aunts and everyone else in my family leaves me the hell alone, and then we'll come back to gingerbread cookies and the boys and forget this ever happened."

He's chuckling, cupping her face in his hand and bringing it closer to his so he can catch her eyes. He's earnest, kind and gentle in his words as he whispers "whatever you need," and then draws her into his arms, hugging her tightly as they sit at awkward angles on the couch. Regina takes in his smell, that pine, woodsy scent that always calms her, and sighs in relief.

"Thank you," she breathes against his shirt, and Robin hums.

"When is this party?" he asks when they part, and then they proceed to work out the logistics. Ruby, Mrs. Lucas's granddaughter, is Roland's babysitter, she can stay in the suite with the boy while they're away and take care of him, and Henry will stay with Emma, Regina's friend, who is also the Sheriff. They'll drive to Boston in Robin's car on the 23rd, attend the wedding the day after, and then leave early and head home right away so they can be with their children on Christmas. It'll be quick, and Regina leaves Robin's place feeling much lighter now that she knows he'll be by her side.

* * *

 

"I'm sorry to pull you away from Roland so close to Christmas," she tells him when they speak on the phone the day before they leave.

"Regina, I told you last month when you asked me, it's fine. We'll be back in time, and we can build snowmen with our boys and have some of that white hot chocolate you love so much and you'll be back to your cheerful self in no time."

"I've never considered myself a cheerful person," she says into the phone, somewhat curious.

"At Christmas, you most certainly are."

"Really?" she'd never noticed it before.

"Sometimes annoyingly so, if you ask Emma," he teases, "but I happen to find it quite endearing."

"Do you, now?"

"It's hard not to when you do the face."

"The face?" she asks, amused now.

"Yes, you scrunch up your nose when you smile all excited, it's adorable."

"I am _not_ adorable," she barks out in annoyance, but she feels the corner of her mouth tipping up in a smile.

"Oh, you most definitely are."

"Alright, enough, save the flirting for tomorrow night when this whole charade begins."

"As you wish, milady," he jokes into the phone, and they exchange fond goodbyes before they hang up.

* * *

 

"Wow," he breathes as he closes the car door, letting out a low whistle as they approach the big oak door of the opulent mansion. "You grew up here?"

"Mother's remodeled it countless times, and almost nothing remains of the house I remember living in as a child, but yes, I grew up here," she tells him, chuckling at his wide eyes and slightly open mouth. He's cute when he's stunned.

"Are you ready?" she asks him then, and Robin tears his gaze away from the impressive structure in front of him to look at her, offering her a tender smile and his outstretched hand.

"Come on, let's go be in love," he says, and she'd normally think he was teasing, but there's a hint of something in his tone, something she can't quite place, something that makes her doubt whether he means it as a joke or not.

When she rings the doorbell and a fancy, ridiculous melody results from the action, the moment of intensity is broken, and they're snickering at the pretentiousness of it all.

A maid ushers them in, and Regina feels for the poor girl –who introduces herself as Ashley, at Robin's behest- when she sees her flinch at the sound of Cora's heels descending the grand staircase.

"Go, I'll handle her," she tells her, giving her a wink and smiling at the utter relief on the young woman's face as she scampers off to the kitchen to avoid the lady of the house.

"Ah! You're finally here, what took you so long?" are Cora's first words to her daughter, whom she hasn't seen in years.

"There was traffic," Regina replies, her voice robotic, detached.

"Hmm," is all Cora says, as if she doesn't believe the excuse, but lets it slide. "And who might this be?" she asks then, head tilting to the side as she looks Robin up and down, scans every inch of him, scrutinizing his every aspect, from the lock of hair that has fallen over his eyes to the untied lace of his boot.

"Mother, this is Robin, we're, uh… he's…" she's at a loss, too nervous and too rattled, so Robin saves her, extending his arm to Cora and introducing himself.

"Robin Locksley," he says in that enchanting, velvety voice of his, "Regina's boyfriend."

They smile like idiots at each other, and there's that lick of electricity that runs up and down her spine whenever he looks at her with the tenderness that shines in his eyes now, she feels it slither through her body and quickly tramps it down.

Cora does not seem impressed, but looks him up and down again all the same, appraising the view, no doubt looking for faults she can pick at before she addresses him.

"Your shirt is untucked," she says by way of greeting.

"Ah, yes, apologies, one can look a bit ruffled after so many hours in a car," he brushes off the jibe like it's nothing and making no effort to fix the offending item of clothing. He's smiling pleasantly at Cora, and it amuses Regina to see that her mother is at a loss as to how to proceed now that she's realized Robin isn't the least bit intimidated by her.

"Your shoelace is undone," she tries again, and he shrugs, bends down to fix it quickly and stands back up, looping an arm around Regina's waist.

"I've been wanting to meet you for a very long time," he tells her, and he's still smiling politely, but somehow the statement comes out a bit colder, less like pleasantries and more like he's getting ready to tell her things Regina isn't sure she wants him to tell her.

"Yes, well, Regina's never mentioned you."

"I suppose that would require you actually talking to her, would it not?" that ever pleasant smile is still in place, but she can feel the way he's squeezing her hip and knows he's about to blow off on her, so she intervenes.

"Where's Zelena?" she asks before Cora can reply to Robin's dig.

"She'll be right down," Cora replies, then seems to remember it's her daughter who stands in front of her and gives her a once over.

"Are you eating right? You seem a bit bloated."

"I'm fine, mother," Regina says with a roll of her eyes, the warmth of Robin's touch still hasn't left her, and she subtly leans into it just a little, just enough to get her through this.

"I'm only trying to help, dear. You have good genetics, but at your age anything you eat will go to your hips! Maybe you should lay off the ice cream."

"I happen to think she's stunning… in every way," Robin interrupts, looking at her with the most sincere expression in his eyes, and she gives him a watery smile right before a commotion is heard from upstairs.

"Regina!" Zelena's voice comes from the top of the stairs, and then the beautiful redhead is skipping down the steps and jumping into her sister's arms, and Regina relaxes in the embrace just as Robin lets go of her so she can have a proper moment with her sister.

"Sorry I took so long in coming down, are you alright?" Zelena asks in a whisper, and Regina nods with a smile.

"I've missed you," she says, and notices the way Zelena's eyes water before she pulls her in for another hug.

"Zelena, darling, these displays of sentimentality are frowned upon in high society."

"Screw high society, I haven't seen my sister in months, I'm damn well going to hug her as long as I want."

"Would you mind doing that without cutting my air supply?" Regina quips in a strained voice, and Zelena lets go instantly, smiling sheepishly at her sister.

"Sorry, sis."

"It's fine, now get back here," Regina tells her as she opens her arms again, forgetting about their mother for a second and hugging her sister again.

"Future Mrs. Gold, huh? Sounds appropriate," she jokes as they move away from the foyer and into the kitchen, and her sister blushes as she giggles and begins to pour them both some tea.

"I know, can you believe it?! I'm getting married in the morning!" she sounds so giddy, Regina can't help but feel excited for her, even if she has yet to meet the man.

"So where is Mr. Owner-of-Manhattan?" she asks in a teasing tone, and Zelena laughs and playfully bumps her with her elbow.

"He'll come by later, he has some calls to get done first. And stop that! You know it's not his money I'm after, though I'd say it's definitely the reason mother is so excited about the wedding."

"That display we just watched was her being excited?"

"Oh, definitely! She hasn't even commented on your outfit," Zelena quips.

"Here's to small victories," Regina replies with a grim smile before they take a drink of their fancy china cups.

"So who's the hunk?" she asks, and when Regina merely says "Robin," Zelena squeals.

"Oh I just knew it! I knew you two would end up together! How did it happen?!" she's excited, and Regina begins to think this might just have been the worst plan ever, when she remembers she's left Robin alone with Cora.

"That can wait, right now, we have to go rescue the poor guy," she dodges, and Zelena's eyes widen when she comes to the same realization as Regina, and they both run to get him.

When they go to the foyer, however, they find it empty, and Robin's laugh can be heard from further inside.

"Seems to be going well," Zelena offers as they move to the living room, where they find Robin laughing and joking, but Cora is nowhere to be seen, and it is Ashley who's laughing with him, though she freezes when she catches sight of Regina and Zelena.

"I'm sorry, Miss, I'll head back to the servants quarters now," she says nervously, and Zelena gives her a curt nod and watches her scramble away.

"Zelena," Regina scolds, "tell me you're being nice to the poor girl."

"She's here under our employ so she can see to guests, not become buddies with them," her sister replies, and Regina shakes her head. Zelena's lived a very privileged life, and as much as Regina loves her, she knows there are a few things about her younger sister that are very much like Cora, things she hopes will flesh themselves out of her system before it's too late.

"She has to oversee this entire thing and deal with mother, I think she has it bad enough, give her a break," she tries again, and Zelena sighs, realizing she's behaved a little too much like Cora for her liking.

"I'm sorry, you're right. I'll add a bonus to her paycheck," she offers, and it's not what Regina would have wanted –she'd really just like for her sister to treat the girl better-, but she supposes Ashley could use the money, so she merely nods and turns back to Robin, who is watching their interactions with an amused smile on his face.

"Ah, yes! Introductions!" Zelena announces excitedly before offering her hand and her name to Robin.

"I'm Robin, pleasure to meet you," he says in kind, shaking her hand gently and offering his congratulations. Zelena giggles when he winks at her, and Regina laughs.

"Hands off, you're getting married tomorrow," she tells her when she notices that Zelena has yet to let go of Robin's hand after they'd shaken them. Her pretend-boyfriend snickers, then drops her sister's hand and goes to wrap his arm around Regina's waist. She stiffens a little at the contact, not used to him being so touchy-feely with her in front of others, but then she remembers they're supposed to act like they're head-over-heels for each other, and so she leans into him and places a tiny kiss on his cheek, watching with amusement as he swallows heavily.

Zelena's booked them the fanciest suite at a local high-end hotel, and in order to keep up their pretenses, they decide not to look for a second room, but rather share the one given to them. Robin tells her he'll take the couch, but they both fall asleep on the bed halfway through rerun of Grey's Anatomy they'd decided to watch after dinner.

She wakes cocooned in his arms early the next day, still in her clothes from the day before, and his soft snores are something she's heard countless times, but they still make her smile, especially when she takes a lock of her hair and starts tickling his face with it, making him scrunch up his nose and bat at it with a heavy hand, grunting when he only manages to hit himself in the face repeatedly.

"You really enjoy that, don't you?" he says, eyes still closed, and somehow the fact that he's not as oblivious to her antics as she thought he was makes it all the more amusing, and she laughs louder, then burrows closer to him.

"Thanks for coming with me," she tells him, "I'm sorry my mother was a bitch to you."

"I don't care what she does or says to me, it's you I don't want her poking at."

"My knight in shining armor," she teases, and then brings her arm up and shoves him away, making him fall off the bed and land on the carpeted floor.

"Ow! That was uncalled for," he tells her sternly, and she should apologize, she really should, but all she can do is laugh, then run all around the suite, bouts of giggles erupting from her when he catches her and pins her to the floor, tickling her mercilessly.

Not for the first time, it occurs to her that this is not what friends do, friends don't flirt like this, friends don't sleep hugging each other, and friends do not, _do not_ , have a reaction to each other like the one she's having to him now, where she feels all tingly and warm as he hovers above her and lets his laughter die down, the tip of his tongue coming out to wet his lips, and then it seems he's as entranced by her as she is by him, and suddenly they find each other a little too close for her comfort, so she scrambles away, gets up and runs to the bathroom with an off-handed comment about getting the car smell off her.

The suite has two showers, so she uses one while he uses the other. They order room service for brunch and lounge in the fluffy white hotel bathrobes while they gush about the water pressure and watch Return of the Jedi when they find it as they browse through the channels, and then Regina looks at the time and they decide it's probably best if they start getting ready, seeing as they have to be at the wedding soon. Regina walks around the room in her robe to gather her things, damp hair covering her face as she bends down to retrieve her makeup bag from her suitcase. She takes over the walk-in closet while Robin sets everything up in the bathroom, a garment bag housing his tux hanging from the door.

When she emerges an hour later, he's stunned, stares at her open-mouthed as she walks into the room. The dress is simple enough, a royal blue, somewhat purple piece that ends just below her knees and hugs her curves in a way that makes her look and _feel_ sexy. The pleated, asymmetrical neckline is modest but enticing all the same, and when she turns to hang the garment bag back in the closet, she hears Robin groan.

"What is it?" she asks, truly concerned.

"You look fantastic," he tells her, then walks closer and plays with the ends of the black sashes that sprout from the shoulders and tie into a small bow at the back of her neck, "I'll be pretend-dating the most beautiful woman in the room tonight."

"Don't let the bride hear you say that," she chuckles at the same time she blushes at his compliment, "but thank you. You clean up pretty well, yourself," she adds when she finally takes a moment to rake her gaze over him, her mouth almost watering at the image of this very attractive man in a very sharp suit. His tie is a little crooked, so she reaches out to fix it without a second thought, planting a tiny kiss on his chin as if it's the most normal thing in the world for her to do when she's done.

She blushes, blushes furiously, and then acts like nothing happened and returns to fixing the last of her makeup, adding a coat of burgundy lipstick and putting on her earrings. She turns, grabbing her bag, and tells him she's ready.

Even as they ride the elevator down to the lobby, she avoids looking at him, but she can _feel_ him staring at her, knows he's moving his eyes up and down her body, admiring the dress and the way she looks in it, and she can't help but feel just a little satisfied that she's managed to get such a reaction from him.

She hurries out of the elevator doors and to the main entrance of the hotel, asking the valet to bring the car around and throwing a smile at Robin when she realizes he's still staring.

"Your mouth is open," she jokes, and he promptly swallows and brings his eyes back to hers. They look darker than usual, but his boyish, teasing smile is there as he raises an eyebrow.

"Don't flatter yourself," he says, but then looks her over some more, and Regina feels sexy, flirty, and finds herself wishing this was real, that they really were as happy a couple as they're pretending to be. Realization comes crashing in that they're not, that they're friends, that he's doing this for her because he doesn't want her to suffer her mother's criticism, and she shakes her head to clear it of the inappropriate questions that were forming there, like what would his stubble feel like against her skin, if his kisses would be rough and hungry or slow and sweet, if he'd hold her face or grab her waist and pull her closer…

She catches herself thinking these things again as she quickly climbs into the car, and that's when the nerves set in. Robin drives at a normal pace, but she feels like he's rushing to the house for some reason, the ride seeming shorter than it is, and it occurs to her that it's because she's about to face every annoying, holier-than-thou, money and power-hungry member of her family in the same room and she does _not_ want to be there. This was a terrible idea.

"Hey," he says, keeping one hand on the steering wheel as the other comes down to grasp hers in her lap, "it'll be alright, just a quick hello and then if you want to leave right away, then that's what we'll do."

"We can't, Zelena wants me there for the toast."

"I don't care what Zelena wants," he tells her gently, "I care about you, Regina. If this is too uncomfortable for you, we leave."

She nods, because she knows there's no arguing with him on this, but she also knows she'll at least have to wait for the toast before she can scamper out of there, she's not about to leave her sister stranded on the most important day of her life.

They arrive, and Robin has the brilliant idea of remaining by the porch while the ceremony starts, which means that aside from greeting a few distant cousins (including snooty cousin Ursula, who takes the opportunity to mention how old Regina looks), Regina does not have to interact with anyone, and merely makes conversation with Robin. It's nice, easy, basking in the beautiful sunset and talking about their boys and their plans for them when they return (Christmas movies and delicious food and opening presents under the tree, maybe even fit in some ice skating), discussing whether they'll bake chocolate chip cookies or gingerbread cookies (settling for a batch of each), teasing about what they got each other for Christmas.

"Why won't you tell me?!" she asks exasperatedly, but she's smiling all the same.

"It's a _present_ , you can't just ask what it is and expect me to tell you. You'll find out when you open it tomorrow."

"But Robin!"

"You sound just like Henry when you do that," he laughs at her.

"Stop changing the subject."

"I won't tell you no matter what you do."

"Fine! Then _I_ won't tell you what I got you, either."

"Sounds fair," he says as he shrugs, unfazed, and it frustrates her.

"I hate you," she grumbles.

"No you don't," he taunts, and there's a hint of a sparkle in his eye that tells her he knows exactly what it is she feels for him, and it's definitely not hate.

"Oh, stop it!" she gripes before he can name that feeling.

"Besides, there's only one present I want from you this Christmas," he begins, moving closer to her.

"Oh? Well, aren't you the king of poor timing? You should've asked for it sooner. What is it?" she asks, trying to keep her tone playful, but his proximity is doing things to her, and she suspects the present he's telling her he wants is not the ridiculous Union jack-themed tea set she got him as a joke, or the surprise batch of peanut butter cookies she's baking for him and Roland tomorrow.

He's about to answer when there's a chime from inside the house, an alert for everyone to gather in the ballroom for the ceremony, as it's about to start. Regina leaves Robin to find them good seats and hurries inside to look for her sister and wish her luck. When she finds her, they become blubbering messes when they hug, and then laugh when they have to fix Zelena's mascara so that she doesn't look like a raccoon throughout her own wedding.

She walks down the aisle alone, and Regina feels the absence of her father, misses him terribly, and leans her head against Robin's shoulder when they sit back down after Zelena reaches her future husband, who Regina has yet to meet. It feels odd for her, watching her sister get married to a man she doesn't know. He's older, with grey streaks in the hair at his temples, crinkled eyes and a pointy nose, not exactly attributes that Regina would expect Zelena to fall for, but he's looking at his bride like she's the brightest light in all the world, and Regina knows her sister will be alright with him.

It seems the ceremony is over before she's even registered that it begun, too wrapped up in her thoughts, trapped in her own self-deprecation, and it doesn't escape her notice that it's her mother's voice the one she hears in her head when she tells herself she could've had more than she does, could've been part of a bright world full of possibilities, where she didn't have to buss tables or go home covered in sweat and coffee stains, but then another voice, one that sounds an awful lot like Robin's, tells her she's done right by herself, that she's happy with her life, and that all these misgivings are nothing but her insecurities and her nerves getting the best of her.

They move on to the reception, the second ballroom now transformed by lights and chandeliers and flowers that give off the most delightful fragrance. Cora knows how to plan an event, she'll give her that much.

Robin is as impressed as she is, looking around and giving a low whistle at the romantic, elegant atmosphere the empty space has been turned into. There are Christmas trees everywhere, decorated in white and gold, white twinkle lights and tulle hanging from the ceiling, and there are magnificent ice sculptures on the tables where the hors d'oeuvres are served in ways so beautiful Regina feels guilty eating them and disrupting the artwork. The wine, though, the wine is easily the best part. Fruity and light and –Regina's certain- _expensive_ , and she takes sip after sip, savoring the smooth taste and the velvety texture of the red liquid as it goes down her throat.

"Regina, dear," Cora interrupts just as she and Robin are clinking their glasses, toasting to the night from hell about to unfold, "go easy on the wine, you don't want to make a spectacle."

She saunters off, overseeing everything, and Regina downs her wine in one gulp out of rebellious frustration. Ashley sneaks past a few other guests and over to them, refilling her glass and giving her a wink before she steals away to attend to the others.

"I'm going to snag us a couple of crab cakes, will you be alright while I'm gone?" Robin asks, and she nods, throws an off-handed comment about how she survived her family for twenty years, she can do it for a few minutes.

He frowns at her tone but walks away without a word, and she knows she's being a little short with him, but she feels coddled and, to be perfectly honest, frustrated. Frustrated because she's caught herself twice already wishing that this were real, that he wasn't just pretending to be hers, that they had given in to their desires from long before they became friends and merely enjoyed each other the way they wanted to from the beginning, and now she can't, because she's discovered she can't lose him, because she's realized she depends on their friendship to stay sane in her moments of weakness, like the one she's having now, where the way her mother tuts at her from afar as she talks to Aunt Eva has her cringing.

If Cora is awful, then Eva is on another level of horrible. A rich widow at fifty, she has no life of her own, so it's only logical for her that she must meddle in everyone else's, and it's that poking, nagging nature, paired with a temper and craving for social stature that could rival Cora's own, that makes her insufferable. Regina knows Aunt Eva and her mother have never gotten along despite being half-sisters and growing up together, and she knows that Cora on some level still blames Eva for uncle Leopold's passing. It was no secret in the family that Cora had a thing for old uncle Leopold, and that he had responded in kind, until he left her for Eva, and that animosity had festered within the family ranks for as long as Regina had been alive. There was one thing that bonded Eva and Cora though, and that was their mutual disapproval of Regina's life choices, which is what she is certain they're discussing now as they walk over to her with condescending smiles on their faces. Regina panics, Robin is still not back from his trip to the food tables and the two queens of darkness are heading her way. She feels trapped, unable to avoid the inevitable onslaught of carefully masked insults she's about to get from her aunt and mother.

"Regina, darling!" Aunt Eva says with false sweetness, "I've not seen you in ages!"

"I've been busy," Regina replies automatically, clutching her wine glass and thanking Ashley in her head for refilling it when she did, "how are you, Aunt Eva?"

"Oh, just marvelous! This wedding is exquisite, don't you think? Though I would've picked peonies instead of roses," she says, never one to miss an opportunity to take a jab at Cora, "but it's quite lovely."

"It is, mother's outdone herself," Regina agrees, looking at Cora now, and hating the part of her that still waits for her mother to smile at her, to show the tiniest hint that she cares. It doesn't come, and instead she is met with a sneer.

"Don't suck up, dear, it doesn't become you," she tells her daughter, and Regina flinches, looking down at her wine.

Thankfully, Robin chooses that moment to appear, snaking an arm around her waist from the side and planting a kiss on her temple.

"I'm sorry, my love, there were quite a lot of people at the hors d'oeuvres, I'll return later. Everyone's going crazy over the shrimp, it seems."

She turns to him, gives him a tight smile, though her eyes are wide with relief, and she then introduces him to Aunt Eva, feeling him squeeze her tighter when she says the word 'boyfriend'.

"Hello," Robin says, his tone is polite, but definitely not warm. He knows Regina's story, knows Aunt Eva is just as guilty of bullying and emotionally abusing her as Cora is, and Regina can see in the way his posture stiffens that he doesn't like her; he doesn't like her at all. Aunt Eva on the other hand, she _enjoys_ what she sees (and how could she not? He's easily the most attractive man here, with the tux that fits him so well it's as if he'd been poured into it, the neatly trimmed beard, and the eyes, and the dimples, and the perfectly disheveled hair), she's eyeing Robin with a hunger that makes Regina's anger flare and for a fleeting second she worries she'll crush her wine glass if she grips it any tighter.

"So how did you two meet?" the older woman asks while Cora stares curiously at them, and Robin takes the lead before Regina even has time to freak out about what to say.

"Parent-teacher conference. Our sons go to the same school," he says, surprising her by telling the truth. He lets go of her waist, then turns and smiles fondly at her as he completes the statement with "she was being difficult about a field trip the children were going to take, and I was about to give her a piece of my mind, but then I saw her face and I was lost."

Pretentious aunt Eva swoons, her hand grasping Robin's arm affectionately, and Regina feels another surge of anger at the contact, but Robin slowly and smoothly extricates himself from Eva's grasp and moves to put a hand on the small of her back, and she tells herself that the warm, tingly feeling currently coursing through her has nothing to do with his touch and everything to do with the wine she's sipping, but somewhere deep down, she knows that's a lie.

"Just like that, huh?" aunt Eva asks flirtatiously, and Robin nods with a gracious smile, tugging Regina closer to his side and placing a tender kiss on her cheek. She can feel herself blushing, but says nothing, merely drops her head to hide it under her hair as it frames her face.

"I'm afraid so," Robin continues, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to be telling this story. And it should be, really, because he has yet to tell a lie. They did meet that way, and she can still remember the way his face was set in anger, about to say something snarky to her for interrupting the possibility of that field trip, but for some reason he never did, and instead ended up introducing himself by the coffee machine after the meeting.

"I don't know why she thought wearing heels on such an awful, rainy day was a good idea, but I was lucky for it. We were talking, making our way out to the parking lot, and she lost her footing and fell right into my arms. I said something charming, she blushed, and then I asked her to dinner and she said yes," she hears Robin tell Aunt Eva, and Regina scowls a little, a playful smirk on her face as she turns to look at him in disbelief.

"You really do enjoy telling that story, don't you?"

"It's a great story," he counters, and again, she's baffled by how he's made the entire tale of them meeting sound so romantic. In truth, her foot had gotten stuck in the mud and she'd held on to the first thing she found in order to avoid a fall, and that first thing just happened to be his arm. He'd lifted her up, chuckled at her clumsiness, and asked her to join him for a slice of pizza at Granny's.

"Oooh tell me about your first kiss!" Zelena's voice suddenly says, and Regina realizes she's joined their little group, eager to hear all about her sister's fascinating love story. Regina groans, embarrassed.

"Oh, a great moment," he tells her, "but I prefer to keep that to myself, if you don't mind."

"You tease!" Zelena says, laughing when he winks at her and then turns to Regina, leading her away from the crowd and to a secluded hallway.

"Everything seems alright so far, doesn't it?" he asks her.

"Yes, you're a natural," she taunts, "it's a good thing you got us out of there, though, they probably would've asked some very inappropriate questions once the booze started to kick in."

"You think they would've requested tales of our sexcapades?" he asks with a boyish grin marking his face, and Regina laughs.

"Oh I'm sure they would have," she nods, "and I'm certain they would've flirted their way into your good graces to try and get embarrassing stories about me out of you, as well."

"I would never!" he gasps, clutching a hand to his chest, and she laughs again before her eyes meet his.

"Thank you… for doing this… you've no idea how much it means to me."

"Anything for you, my queen," he says with a gentle bow, and she smacks his chest playfully.

"Come on, Zelena was raving about the chocolate fountain earlier, let's give it a try."

And with that, they're back to their friendly banter, enjoying themselves despite everything, but she notices how Robin keeps touching her, tucking lose strands of her hair behind her ear, fingers lingering on her cheek. His hand is on her waist more often than not, and he leans close to her when he speaks, making the moment intimate, couple-y and, again, ridiculously romantic, and she starts to feel uneasy at how naturally this comes to him, and that uneasiness makes her drink more wine than she'd initially planned, so she's good and tipsy in under an hour, laughing carelessly and walking clumsily around the venue, glass in hand as she surveys her surroundings, looking for her "date", whom she apparently lost at some point.

She sobers up when her eyes find him talking to a pretty blonde in the corner, one that Regina recognizes as Glinda, Zelena's best friend from Law school. Jealousy burns within her at the way she laughs and leans closer to him, telling him things as if they were secrets, and he smirks right back at her, his easygoing behavior bleeding onto his interaction with her as easily as it had with Regina herself just minutes ago.

"I'm leaving," she tells him when she reaches them, her tone icy and off-handed as she turns and walks away with purpose, swaying her hips just a little, though she has no idea why.

"Regina?" he says when he grabs her arm, trying to turn her to face him, but she yanks herself away from him, glaring as she stalks off. He follows her into the hallway, where the chatter of the ballroom turns into a dull murmur, colored by a few notes from the string quartet playing inside.

"What's wrong?" he asks her, and she notices that he sounds angry.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"You should know better than to lie to me," he snaps back, frowning at her, "is it because I was talking to that woman?"

"If you didn't want to do this you could've just told me," she argues.

"What is your problem?" he asks in frustration.

"Do you realize the hell my mother will put me through if she sees that my supposed loving boyfriend is flirting with another woman at my sister's wedding?!"

"Is that really what this is about, or are you jealous that I was talking to someone else?" he asks then, and his voice has lost its edge, laced now with concern, as if he can't fathom why she would even think he was interested in the other woman.

"Why would I be jealous?"

"You tell me," he demands, and he's leaning closer to her, and it scares her, rattles her, so she pulls away, turning her back on him and huffing.

"I'm not jealous, I just want this to work, and it won't if you're chasing other women while we're here. Once the party is over, though, feel free to ride off into the sunset with Glinda over there."

"She is quite beautiful," he says, and she knows him enough to recognize the infuriatingly teasing tone of his voice, so she scowls and turns to face him.

"You think this is funny?" she seethes.

"I do, actually, but not for the reasons you think."

"I'm glad I amuse you," she snaps, "you know what? Just go, this was a terrible idea."

"Regina—"

"I'll tell them you had some sort of emergency and had to leave, and the next time I hear from Zelena I'll just tell her we broke up and we don't need to talk about this ever again."

"Regina," he stops her rambling by holding onto her arm, angling his body towards hers and blocking her path so she can't run away from him. She's looking everywhere but at him, avoids his eyes like the plague, because she knows once she looks into them, she'll have no choice but to be honest, to admit that yes, it does bother her that he's looking at other women, because she was stupid enough to fall for the fantasy he'd so skillfully constructed of their life together.

"What?!" she grouches in frustration when she tries to move around him and fails.

"You have nothing to worry about. I don't want Glinda."

"Okay, then get cousin Ursula or one of Zelena's haughty rich friends. Hell, get Aunt Eva if you want, that's not my point!"

"And you're missing _my_ point entirely, as well."

"And what would that be?!" she snaps.

"That I don't want them, or anyone else!" they're standing so close to each other now that she can feel his breath on her cheek, his forehead resting against hers, and his statement makes the ire go out of her, replaced by nerves that seem to be building up and radiating throughout her very skin.

"Anyone… else?" she asks dumbly, and he shakes his head with a chuckle, the tip of his nose brushing against hers before he moves his hands up to cup her face.

"Ah! There you two are! Regina, dear, it's time for pictures, we've been waiting on you longer than we have on the bride. Do try not to upstage your sister, it's her day, after all," Cora's voice interrupts them just as he's about to speak, and she pulls away as if burned, turning to look at her mother and bowing her head, walking towards her.

"Coming, mother," she mutters meekly, and Robin takes a little longer to catch up to the turn of events, walking slowly behind her and waiting for her to pose with Zelena in several shots.

The more pictures are taken, the more it wears on her. Cora's snapping orders at the photographer, at _her_ , and making snide remarks with the help of Aunt Eva even after Zelena gives them a warning glance.

"I suppose we'll have to retouch these a bit, Regina's complexion completely offsets the balance of color in the photo. Honestly, dear, would it have cost you so much to tan before you got here?"

Regina grits her teeth, but says nothing, merely turns to look at the camera, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Robin glowering at her mother. From them on, it's an endless stream of politely masked insults, from _"why did you pick that color to wear for this? The color scheme was gold and seashell white, we told you,"_ and _"I wish I could say your wedding will be just as lovely as this, Regina, but let's not kid ourselves, you'd ever be able to settle down with someone of Mr. Gold's stature,"_ to _"your hair is too short, though I suppose it would need to be if you're cooking at that diner all day,"_ to _"do you not own higher heels, Regina? They'd do wonders for your posture, I'm only saying it because you're slouching, dear,"_ and _"so how much is it that you make per month now?"_ and _"are you able to afford a house with that amount?"_ and _"it would really do you better to splurge on private school for Henry, public school is so… mundane."_

Zelena keeps murmuring soothing things in her ear, telling her to ignore the old hags, that this is their moment together at her wedding and they don't get to ruin it, but when said old hags start taking jabs at her parenting and Regina's once again closing in on herself, weighed down by the venom her mother and aunt keep spewing with the help of cousin Ursula as she joins their party, it is Robin who loses it.

"Alright, that's enough!" he snaps at them, turning to look them in the eye.

"Robin…" Regina tries to placate him, because the last thing she wants is to cause a scene, but he'll have none of it, addressing Cora and Eva as he darts a hand out behind him to stop Regina from moving closer. There's anger in him like she's never seen before, his whole body trembles with it.

"Do you have _any_ idea how much you've hurt her? How much you're hurting her now? Regina is an accomplished woman, she started with nothing, now she manages a business, she took night classes, she learned her craft and spent endless amounts of time working to do better, to _be_ better, all while raising a child on her own, and she's managed to do that with more grace and love and understanding than you've ever shown her. You, who humiliated her when she fell in love simply because the man she chose wasn't rich like you, who didn't care that she was sad and alone and needed someone to care for her. You, who mistreated her all her life and caused so many emotional scars in her that she's scared to let anyone in. You have _no right_ to criticize her like this, and _you,_ " he jabs a finger in Zelena's direction, "she's your _sister_ , yet you let her get trampled on by everyone here and just tell her to let it go? Do you know how hard it was for her to convince herself to come here? How difficult it was for her to swallow her fears and come to this wedding?! She did this for you, because she loves you, and all you can do is tell her to ignore the endless amounts of poison they keep firing her way?!" he's seething now, and Zelena looks contrite as she wraps an arm around Regina's waist and squeezes in apology. All Regina can do is put her hand on her sister's arm and tell her it's alright. Robin then turns back to Cora.

"You may get your jollies from putting her down and making her miserable, but I'm done watching you do it. If I ever hear so much as a breath from you against that amazing woman you haven't even bothered to get to know, it's me you'll have to answer to. Understood?!"

His voice has grown louder now, and several guests have turned to see what the commotion is about. Regina puts a hand on his arm, then drags him away, back to their secluded little corner, where they'd been interrupted by Cora earlier.

"Why did you do that?"

"I'm done watching them treat you like this."

"So you cause a scene at my sister's wedding? Well done, Robin."

"I can't believe you're angry about this."

"Of course I am! I brought you here to support me, and yes, maybe to ward off some of my mother's charming behavior towards me, but I did not bring you here to defend my honor! I don't need you for that."

"Regina," he starts, and the fight goes out of him as he speaks, exhaling before he continues, "I didn't do it because I thought you needed a prince charming to rescue you, I did it because I can't watch you suffer. It… it hurts me to watch how they hurt you."

His hands are cupping her face again, like he had earlier, and he's drawing her closer.

"I'm going upstairs. We'll meet back at the hotel tomorrow. You go find Glinda and enjoy what's left of the party," she says the woman's name with a sneer as she tries to pull away, "I've had enough humiliation for one night."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I want nothing to do with Glinda or any of the other women in this room? Haven't you realized? The only one I want is you, Regina," he tells her, and before she can form a single coherent thought in her head, he's kissing her, lips pressed gently, tentatively on hers. She doesn't pull away, nor does she respond, merely stands there, dumbfounded by his actions.

"Robin, what are you doing?" she asks when he pulls away, and he huffs out a laugh.

"I thought that was pretty obvious," he jokes, but grows serious again when she scowls at him in response.

"Regina, we've known each other for over a year, we've slept in the same bed together, we basically co-parent our children, we spend almost every waking moment together…"

"Yes, as friends," she tells him slowly, and it's his turn to scowl now.

"You and I have never been just friends," he admonishes, and then, "do you know why it's been so easy for me to play this part? Why I even said yes to this mess of a situation? Because it was a chance to be _with_ you, to explore a different side of us, even if we left this place and never got to be like this again."

"Robin—" she starts, but he's shaking his head, the hand holding her face coaxing her into tilting it up to stare at him as he continues to speak.

"I wasn't lying back there, Regina. That day at the school, when I first saw you, I… I felt this, this _thing_ , like a spark of energy inside me, and I haven't felt that for anyone before. It wasn't just your beauty, though I'll admit that you're definitely the sexiest, most beautiful woman I've ever met," she scoffs at that, and he pulls back from where his forehead is pressed against hers, gives her a stern look and brings their faces close again as he insists, "you are, but it wasn't just that, it was… _you_ , you have fire, and you're smart and funny and sassy and an absolute pain in the ass when you're hungry, or when Henry's not on time for school, and you're always correcting Roland's grammar and sometimes I want to snap at you because he's four, for crying out loud! But I know you do it because you care, and so I let you, just like you let me feed Henry sweets and pretend you're not looking, and then you act as if you're mad at me for something else but really it's because I gave the boy a chocolate bar before dinner."

"You're rambling," she notes with a fond smile, flattered by how he sees her, all of her, and still cares.

"And you're not listening. My point, Regina, is that you are unique, you're intelligent, and hardworking, and a wonderful mother, and you're impatient and kind and neurotic and you get pouty when you're tired and then all I want to do is kiss you because you look so damn adorable. You are special, regardless of what anyone here thinks, you are, and I am in love with absolutely every single part of you."

That last confession stuns her, "you… you're what?"

"In. Love. With. You." He says every word slowly, determinedly, his eyes shining even as they dart down to her mouth.

"But—" she begins, and then is cut off by his lips crashing on hers, with full force and no reservations this time, and it feels amazing, _she_ feels amazing.

They part with a wet smack, and she starts to speak again, his name leaving her lips in protest, but he cuts her off again, kissing her and kissing her, his tongue peeking out to lick her bottom lip, asking for access, and who is she to deny him? When in truth all she's wanted is to feel this, feel _him_ like this. The taste of him is wonderful, like home and warmth and there's this tickling sensation in her belly that is driving her crazy with lust and need for him.

"I…" she sighs into his mouth when they part, and he stops her once more, making her gasp into yet another kiss.

"I will snog you senseless until you've let go of all those buts you're about to throw my way. I want to be with you, Regina, and I know you feel the same, otherwise you wouldn't be kissing me back."

He goes in for another peck to her lips, but she stops him this time, though she doesn't push him away.

"It's not a but," she begins when he frowns and attempts to kiss her again, and that draws his attention, makes him look into her eyes with curiosity now.

"I just… never thought I'd have this," she tells him with a watery smile, he kisses her chastely in return, letting his arms drop from her face and wrap around her as his lips ghost over hers, then plant themselves firmly on her forehead, then sweetly on the tip of her nose, and she closes her eyes and lets herself feel, lets herself be loved. There's one thing missing though, one thing she has yet to say, so she does.

"I love you, too." It's a whisper, something meant for his ears and his alone, and he beams at her, draws her tighter against him, and envelops her mouth with his again.

"I'm also a hell of a cook," she murmurs against his lips, and he's too caught up in the closeness, in enjoying the way his hands roam her back, to fully understand what she's referring to.

"What?"

"Before, when you were saying all those things about me, you forgot to mention I'm a great cook," she teases, and he laughs into the space between them, his warm breath washing over her.

"Ah, yes, of course, how could I forget _that_?!" he tells her before he ducks his head back down to hers, his teeth catching her bottom lip playfully as one of his hands buries itself into her hair, the other still holding her tightly by the waist.

"Your macaroni and cheese could be better, though," he taunts, and then she's pulling away and whacking his arm, but there's a cheeky smirk on her face even as she does it, and not ten seconds have passed before she's shaking her head and laughing as she crashes their lips together again, embracing the happiness he brings her, letting go of her inhibitions about this, because it's not just an attraction, they _love_ each other, and the realization courses through her and acts like a balm to her soul, because there has been no pretending on his part, he's been making this real all along, and she revels in it, in the way he'd spoken to her family about her, in the way he'd wanted to protect her and snarled at Cora.

"What do you say we get out of here and back to our boys?"

"But the toast—"

"Forget the toast."

"Zelena…"

"Will understand."

"She does," a voice says out of the blue, and Robin draws her half behind him as they turn to find Zelena walking tentatively closer.

"I'm sorry for causing such a ruckus," Robin says, and Regina knows he's not sorry at all, that he's apologizing for her benefit more than anything. Zelena surprises them both by shaking her head and putting a hand up to stop him.

"Please, you did what I've never had the guts to do. And I can't fault you for loving my sister enough to want to protect her," she tells him with a fond smile, then winks at Regina, "he's a keeper, I'd say."

"He definitely is," Regina agrees, her hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I'm sorry," Zelena says then, her lower lip trembling. Regina leaves Robin's side and walks to her sister, enveloping her in her arms.

"It's fine, I'll be fine."

"I wish I was as brave as you, I wish I had the guts to be better than them," Zelena tells her, and Regina frowns.

"Zelena, do you love Gold?"

"Yes."

"Does he love you?"

"Yes," she answers with a smile.

"If he lost all his money, would you leave him?"

"No! God, no!" she exclaims, as if the mere thought of it is inconceivable.

"Then you have nothing to worry about, you're far better than they are, you married for love, and you're following your heart, that's more than mother or Aunt Eva ever did."

"It's what you did."

"It is, though admittedly, my heart didn't lead me to a New York millionaire," she teases, and Zelena chuckles.

"No, it led you to Daniel, to Henry, to Storybrooke, and to him," she says then, nodding her head towards Robin, who is watching the two women with a small grin on his face, "it's a fair trade."

"Agreed," Regina nods, "now go, be happy, and please take poor Ashley with you to New York, she's such an innocent little thing, I doubt she'll survive mother much longer."

Zelena laughs, tells her she'll ask the maid to come along if she so wishes, and then looks at Regina with hope and admiration in her eyes.

"I want all of you to visit me in New York. We'll take the children to Central Park and I'll take you to a Broadway show and we'll have tons of pizza and mimosas and go on spa dates while Robin takes your boys to the museums."

"Sounds like a good plan. Call me when you're back from the honey moon and we'll set something up, alright? I also want you to come to town for Henry's birthday," Regina says, and she feels a weight lift from her chest, the weight that had been pressing her down since she got here, because she has a home to go back to, a new relationship to explore with someone who loves her, and the prospect of spending time with her sister more often, now that their mother won't be there to ruin it.

They leave not ten minutes later, after an emotional farewell between sisters while Robin gets the car, and Regina doesn't bother saying goodbye to her mother or anyone else. Robin takes her hand in his, warm and solid during the entire drive to the hotel. When they arrive, they take a long shower, together this time, and she feels worshiped, not the least bit shy at their nakedness as she explores his body and he, hers, lathering the fragrant soap all over her, planting tiny, adoring kisses on her skin. She's relaxed and boneless by the time they emerge, and he plants a kiss on her cheek and tells her to take a quick nap, to ward off the lingering stress of the night while he gathers their things. An hour later, they're speeding off onto the pavement with takeout and good music, and Regina feeds him fries and bites of his burger while he drives, laughing when she accidentally smears some ketchup on his chin and, feeling bold, darts out her tongue to lick it off. Robin hums, parks the car on the side of the road, and kisses her.

"I love you," he says against her lips, breathless and happy.

"I love you, too," she returns, dropping a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose while her hand holds his to her cheek. She turns then, places another kiss to his palm, and pushes him off her.

"Come on," she says, "let's go home and have a proper Christmas."


	2. Love Was There All Along, A Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin and Regina take their boys to visit Zelena in New York

Zelena's words to describe winter in New York City had ranged from "absolutely ghastly" to "disgusting slushy mess" when they talked on the phone, the phrases adorned with a few expletives that would've made their mother clutch her pearls in outrage. But as Regina takes in the view from the living room window of her sister's very big, very expensive penthouse on the Upper East Side, her eyes sweeping over the expanse of Central Park covered in snow as the sun starts to sink in the horizon, she can't help but love the season and everything it brings to a place like New York.

"Mom, this is awesome!" Henry's voice startles her from her trance as he joins her to look out at the snowy landscape with the biggest smile she's ever seen on him, and she knows then that she did the right thing by agreeing to this trip.

Though her last visit to her sister hadn't gone smoothly (Regina still felt a little ashamed for causing a scene at Zelena's wedding), things had gotten better between them after Zelena cut ties with Cora, something that made Regina feel equal parts guilty and relieved. Guilty, because she knew __she__  was the reason Zelena had severed her seemingly good relationship with their mother. Relieved, because now she could enjoy spending time with her sister without bad memories and the shadow of Cora's judgment hanging over her head.

Zelena had made it to Storybrooke after her honeymoon to deliver souvenirs she'd brought for them from her trip, had even brought something for Roland, whom she hadn't met by then, but knew to be important. Roland, who had taken an instant liking to her and had started calling her Aunt Zel just like Henry did. Roland, who is trotting into the living room now holding Zelena's hand, yammering about the bunk bed he and Henry will be occupying during their visit.

"Can I have top bunk? Pleeeeeeasssee?!"

"Sure, bud," Henry agrees, and then lets the little boy take him to the guest room they'll be sharing.

"So," Zelena asks, "what do you think?"

"It's gorgeous," Regina tells her sincerely, "but, are you sure it's okay for us to be here? You've only been married for what, two months? Surely your husband wants you two to have some time alone. We can find rooms at a hotel, it's really no trouble."

"Regina, you're my sister, if my husband has an issue with you staying here, then he can go find __himself__  a hotel room. You really needn't worry, though, he doesn't mind. In fact, he insisted. He's going on a business trip tomorrow and didn't want me to get lonely."

"That's sweet of him," Regina replies.

"It is, isn't it? But enough about me, how's everything with you and Robin?!"

Regina laughs at her sister's excitement, shakes her head at her before she answers.

"You saw us three weeks ago in Storybrooke, not much has changed since then."

"Oh come on, Regina, I need details! Quick, before he comes up with the bags."

"Things are… good. Really good," she answers with a sigh and a stupid smile on her face, one that makes Zelena stretch out a hand to rub at her arm.

"I'm glad you're happy," she says sincerely, and Regina nods, places her hand on top of her sister's on her arm and murmurs her thanks.

The moment is interrupted by the door swinging open and two men carrying in four small suitcases, and Regina can't help but giggle at the absurdity that is her mighty corporate king of a brother in law carrying the luggage of two little boys into his grand home.

Robin is just behind him, carrying her bag and his, and the second their eyes meet, he beams at her, walks over and kisses her cheek before he lets Zelena lead them to their room so they can start unpacking, Henry and Roland's excited shouts echoing through the apartment when they discover the game room Zelena had mentioned on the phone (it's really a study, but she's somewhat converted it into a second living room, with video games and a huge TV for the boys to enjoy while they visit).

They make quick work of getting their things out of the suitcases and placing them in the empty closet inside the room, and by the time they're done, Robin is sprawled on the bed, beckoning her to him with a sexy smirk on his face. She's still not used to this, to being able to act on her feelings, to the warm, tingly sensation she gets in the pit of her stomach when he looks at her like that.

They'd had sex for the first time on New Year's Eve, after they'd put the boys to bed, ringing in the new year with him inside her and her gasping his name in ecstasy, and ever since then, there was this primal, feral thing in her that wanted him every minute of the day in every possible surface, and that desire was only fueled by the fact that he seemed to feel the exact, same way. She supposes it makes sense, because really, the physical aspect is the only thing that's changed in their relationship (they still take the boys out for ice cream on weekends, still watch Stargate Atlantis late at night while stuffing themselves with popcorn, still take their kids to school together, still comfort one another after a trying day at work, still laugh and joke and make each other smile…), so of course they want to explore and enjoy this newfound sexual side to their dynamic as much as possible.

She walks slowly towards him, crawling up the bed until she's hovering above him, her nose bumping with his.

"Hi," she whispers against his mouth.

"Hi," he replies with a smirk before she swoops down to crash their lips together, and the heat from his kiss envelops her just as his hand fondles her breast, squeezes a nipple over the fabric of her shirt, and they're both breathing heavily by the time a knock on the door startles them apart.

Robin groans against her shoulder, but wraps his arm around her and moves her so that she's tucked on his side, crossing his stretched legs on top of the duvet and rubbing a hand up and down her arm as he mutters a frustrated "come in," to whoever is outside the door.

"Another nap? Really?!" Henry says when he comes inside and sees them cuddled together on the bed.

"Hey, it was a long trip," Regina defends, burrowing closer to Robin and breathing him in.

"I wanna go outside to the park! Mom, get up," her son commands, and she looks up at him, indignant.

"Don't tell me what to do, I'm your mother."

"Get up, or I'm calling Roland and we're jumping on the bed," he threatens with a mischievous smile.

"Please don't let them jump on the bed," Robin pleads in her ear, "my ribs still hurt from the last time they did that."

Regina chuckles, remembering her son's knee colliding with Robin's side when they'd jumped on the bed last week, and with a huff, she tells Henry to go get Roland and himself bundled up so they can take a walk around the park.

"You must be joking. It's freezing out there!" Zelena intervenes when she sees them shrugging on their coats, the boys excitedly discussing their plans to run straight into the snow.

"We'll be alright," Robin assures her as he opens Regina's coat and holds it out for her.

"Fine, I'll take care of dinner, then. Don't worry! I had it catered," she says when Regina gives her a doubtful look, "all I have to do is heat it up, no cooking from me, I promise," she laughs, Regina joining in as she catches the keys her sister throws at her and they usher the boys out of the apartment.

They bask in the beauty of the stark white mass that coats every surface of Central Park. Robin's gloved hand holds hers while they walk through the winding roads with their sons trotting ahead of them, up a hill and down another, marveling at the winter wonderland around them and laughing at the ducklings that slip on the ice that covers half the pond.

Regina finds an empty spot amongst the various tiny snowmen on Gapstow Bridge and helps Roland make one of their own there while Robin plays tag with Henry on the other side of the walkway, losing their balance on more than one occasion thanks to the icy floor, laughing when they land on their butts.

About an hour later, the sun has gone down completely, and as they start to make their way back to the apartment, Regina finds herself holding Robin's hand again. The lights of the city add life and a warm glow to the pristine white landscape around them, making her sigh as she leans into Robin's side, and he places a kiss on the top of her head as they walk, Roland and Henry racing each other a little ways ahead.

"Be careful!" she yells at them, but they pay her no mind, laughing and running and jumping in the snow over and over again. She shakes her head in mock exasperation, turns to Robin and smiles.

"They better be tired enough to go to bed on time tonight, I'm exhausted."

"Really? Here I was thinking we'd pick up where we left off earlier," he flirts, wiggling his eyebrows at her as he stops their walk to wrap his arms around her waist.

"Oh, did you? Hmm, I might consider it…" she flirts back, pressing herself up against him and landing a sucking kiss to his neck, making him groan.

"Unless you want to get frostbite thanks to me stripping you naked in the middle of this park, you need to stop that," he warns, and she giggles, thrilled that she can get him so riled up. She places one last kiss to a spot on his jaw she knows drives him crazy and then she's pulling away from him, trotting ahead to the boys, throwing a wink and a naughty smile over her shoulder at him as she goes.

The boys serve as buffers during what would've been a very awkward dinner had it been just the four adults in the room. Regina still doesn't know Zelena's husband very well, and while he's courteous and nice enough, she still feels put on the spot when having to make conversation with him. Thank god for Robin, though, because it is him who engages the other couple in a riveting conversation about the architectural landmarks in the city, prompting Henry and Roland to join in when they discuss visiting the Statue of Liberty.

As much as she wanted to stay awake and alert long enough to get lost in Robin again after dinner, the second Regina's body lands on the bed, she feels herself drifting off in the coziness of their room. The plush duvet cover and fluffed up pillows feel heavenly, carrying her off into dreamland even as she tries to sneak a hand down Robin's flannel pajama pants to stroke the erection she knows he's sporting, but he only laughs, plants a kiss on her brow and gently bats her hand away, turning her and wrapping her up in his arms, his chest to her back, his nose buried in her hair, breathing her in.

"Good night, my love," he murmurs in her ear.

* * *

 Regina wakes a little after nine in the morning, still cocooned in Robin's warmth, his heavy arm draped over her, and as much as she'd like to stay cuddled with him and maybe wake him up in a very naughty way, the smell of rich, fancy coffee coaxes her out of bed, and so she leaves his embrace, tying her robe around her and leaning down to drop a soft peck to his shoulder before she makes her way out of the room.

She's pleasantly surprised to find Ashley in the living room, and she happily greets the girl, who grins back and whispers a heartfelt __thank you__ for helping her get out from Cora's 'mansion of horror' as it is known amongst everyone who has ever worked there.

"Is that really what they call it?" she asks with a laugh, and Ashley nods her confirmation, making Regina laugh harder when she tells her they refer to her mother as 'the heartless queen of all evil'.

"I'm happy to see you got out of there, then," she tells the girl, "I hope my sister's treating you well?"

"She's alright," Ashley assures, "a little like your mother sometimes, but she's quick to notice and apologizes for it. She's definitely a far kinder boss than Mrs. Mills ever was."

"Good, I'm glad," Regina nods with a smile as she makes her way to the kitchen and finds no one there.

"Where __is__  Zelena?"

"Oh! She wanted to see Mr. Gold off at the airport. She left a while ago, actually, so she should be back soon. Your boys are in the study, playing video games, I made them some pancakes for breakfast, they ate about an hour ago."

"Thank you," Regina says, pouring herself a cup of coffee and taking a deep whiff from it before she goes for the first sip. "Wow, this is damn good coffee."

"Mrs. Gold said the same thing when she tried it for the first time," Ashley laughs as she starts to clean the kitchen table with a wet cloth.

Regina makes her way to the game room to check on the boys, receives two sloppy good morning kisses when she gets there, and then goes back to the bedroom, cup of coffee still in hand. She sets it by the dresser, then hikes her robe up a little so she can maneuver better as she climbs into the bed next to Robin, starts peppering kisses up his arm, shoulder and neck, until she reaches his ear and whispers a husky "good morning" there. He grunts, shifts, but remains asleep, and she laughs at him for a moment, threading her fingers through his hair and pushing it back so she can land a kiss on his forehead. She feels his arm snake around her then, bringing her closer as he lands his lips on hers, his eyes still closed.

"Hmm… good morning," he rasps.

"Well look who's finally woken up," she teases, "come on, get up, it's time for breakfast."

He refuses to move, brings a pillow out from under his head and smashes it in his face, whining that it's too early, that she needs to stop being such a morning person and just cuddle with him. Regina obliges on the cuddling for a moment, lets him bury his nose in her hair as she lies next to him and places a hand on his chest, her mouth trailing a wet path up his throat and to his jaw.

"Keep doing that and we'll never get out of this room," he sighs, his hand growing bolder, dropping from its chaste caress up and down her arm and palming her ass instead, pressing her lower body tighter against his so she can feel him, hard and ready against her belly.

"That doesn't sound like such a bad idea," she taunts, sneaking her hand lower between their bodies, running it up his length and lingering by the waistband of his pajama pants, dipping her fingers inside and biting her lip with a smirk when he twitches at the contact of skin on skin.

His tongue is in her mouth in seconds, hot and insistent, a grunt escaping him when she bites his lower lip, igniting a raw need in her that has her straddling him, swooping down to land kisses on his chest.

"Regina! I'm back!" Zelena's voice interrupts from outside, and they groan in unison.

"I'm coming!" she calls to her sister, and Robin frowns, mutters __I wish__ , and then moves them so that they're both able to get up, kissing her one more time before he pats her ass and jumps into the bathroom while she gets the door.

"Oh god, did I interrupt something? I interrupted something, didn't I?" she asks when she takes in Regina's disheveled appearance, mortified that she's cut into their alone time, but Regina shakes her head good naturedly, tells her she has nothing to worry about, and asks what the plans are for the day.

* * *

 Two hours later, they're stepping out into the cold, bundled in coats and scarves and gloves, cheeks red and eyes squinting as the wind slaps against their faces. They take the boys to Battery Park, board the ferry to Liberty Island and watch their reactions to the imposing landmark. To their surprise, however, it's Zelena who seems the most excited.

"All this time in New York, can you believe I've never actually been here?!" she yells happily as she stares up at the majestic, giant statue before them, blocking the sunlight.

Pictures are taken, most of them with silly faces and strange poses, and Regina notices that all the while, Robin's hand is on her, holding her own or pressed against the small of her back as they walk, his smile rivaling the boys' as he stares and stares at her.

"What?" she asks with a self-conscious grin as she pushes her hair back behind her ear.

"You're stunning," he says simply, giving her a chaste kiss while the other members of their party aren't looking.

They get back to the apartment after a late lunch, and Zelena reveals a surprise in the form of front row tickets to Wicked, and later that afternoon, after a snack to keep their bellies from grumbling during their outing, they pile into the town car Ashley's called for them per Zelena's request, all four of them talking excitedly as they head to the Gershwin Theater. Roland and Henry are delighted by the show, take in the spectacle with wide eyes and half-dropped jaws, and Regina even catches her sister mouthing the words to the songs as they watch the actors dance across the stage.

"You're a closet musical theatre freak, aren't you?" Regina accuses with a smile during intermission.

"Not exactly, but I do love this show, I've seen it multiple times," Zelena admits with a sheepish grin.

When the second act draws to a close and they clap loudly at curtain call, the adults decide it's time for dinner, and go for burgers, despite Zelena's protest of __too many calories in one day__ , and Regina snorts when her sister is actually the first one to order a milkshake after their meal.

They're exhausted when they get back to the apartment, and Roland and Henry conk out not twenty minutes after changing into their pajamas. And when Robin's hands find Regina's naked body under the warm spray of the shower, she feels her energy coming back tenfold, turns around and wraps herself around him, lets him take her against the wall, softly groaning his name as he pounds into her and nips at her chin, and her legs are so shaky he has to practically carry her to bed, a smug smile on his face even as he draws the covers over them and buries his head in the crook of her neck. Regina has half a mind to knock the self-satisfied smirk right off him, but sleep takes her before she can execute that plan.

* * *

 Zelena has to meet with a client the next morning, so they say their goodbyes after breakfast and spend their day ice skating in Central Park, Henry laughing when Robin lands on his ass after a rather ungraceful jump that made him trip over his own feet, Roland joining in when he sees his papa scowling up at them on the ice.

"Are you going to let them mock me like this?" he grouches at her, and Regina can't help the giggle that bubbles out of her as she skates in a circle around him.

"Serves you right for being a showoff," she tells him, stopping right in front of him and bending down to bop his nose with her gloved finger, "fancy ice moves are __my__  thing, not yours."

As if to prove herself, she pivots her foot slightly and turns once, twice, clutching her arms to her chest to gain speed, but Robin, it seems, is not about to suffer the embarrassment on his own, so he catches her around the legs, brings her down on top of him, much to the amusement of their sons and Regina's chagrin.

"That was a dick move," she snaps, and Roland gasps and tells her she owes him a dollar for swearing.

She's still mad when they get out of the rink, fixes her hair under her knit hat and pulls her coat tighter around herself as she walks ahead of Robin, not wanting him near her. It takes him a few minutes, but he catches on to her mood, trots up to her and begs her forgiveness with a tiny kiss to the tip of her nose, and oh it is __not fair__  that he can look so adorable when he pouts at her like that.

"Fine," she succumbs to his charms, but grows serious for another moment as she warns, "but don't ever do that again."

He promises he won't, lands another kiss, on her lips this time, and takes her hand as they walk.

They have lunch with Zelena at a charming little café nearby, and then she goes back to her office, leaving the four of them to explore the city some more.

Their afternoon is spent at the MET. Henry is mesmerized when he explores all the paintings he's learning about in school, Roland excitedly pointing at the armored knights in their shiny armored horses. Regina herself is fascinated by the Hall of Ancient Egypt, walks slowly through it with Robin trailing just behind her, both of them marveling at the artifacts and artwork while Roland and Henry keep straying to gawk at the mummies whenever they pass one.

When they leave the museum, the sun is beginning to set, so Robin suggests they head back to the apartment, murmuring in her ear his plans for a very relaxing, very erotic bath, but Henry demands that they go to Times Square first, insists he wants to see it at night so that all the splendor of it has its full effect. Regina tries to convince him to leave it for the next day, but he's adamant, and in the end says the one thing that disarms her.

"We're only here for four days, mom, I want to see as much as possible before we go home."

So she agrees, throwing an apologetic look at her sexually frustrated boyfriend as they head to the subway, calling her sister on the way to let her know their change in plans.

Zelena was right in saying it would be packed and uncomfortable, and more than once Regina finds herself cursing under her breath when someone bumps into her or the group of people in front of them decides to stop for a picture in the middle of the sidewalk, effectively blocking the way for them to pass, but Henry is staring at the skyscraper where the ball drops, looking at the lit up numbers of 2015 in awe, and she can't stop herself from chuckling at the sight.

They enter the Disney store at Roland's insistence, browse and look around for a while, and then head back out, finding a less transited spot in the square so they can take some photos, and Regina catches herself getting teary-eyed at the happiness that engulfs her when she snaps a shot of all three of her boys beaming at her under the bright lights of the screens that surround them.

When they arrive back at the apartment, her sister surprises them again, this time with delicious, authentic New York pizza for dinner (though Henry jokingly contends that the authenticity is lost in the fact that it's delivered), and they spend a few minutes chatting and making plans for the next day while they eat. They'll go to Rockefeller Center and walk down 5th Avenue for a while first, and then Robin will take the kids to the Museum of Natural History while Zelena treats her sister to a day at the spa. It sounds utterly decadent to Regina, maybe even wasteful, that she should miss out on time with her boyfriend and their children just to have people prodding at her muscles, but Robin insists that it'll do wonders for her, that she deserves a little time to relax, and it doesn't take much insistence from Zelena for her to accept after that.

That night, she seeks Robin out, landing a searing kiss on his lips as soon as their door is closed, and things heat up quickly, their pent-up need getting the best of them. Robin's lips and tongue frantically explore her body, biting and kissing every inch of skin he discovers as he takes off her clothes, and Regina gasps, finds a throw pillow and covers her face with it in an effort to muffle her cries of ecstasy as he licks and sucks at her clit with two and then three fingers buried inside her, and when he finally sinks into her, his thrusts hard and fast and delicious, she clings to him, sinks her nails into his back as he moves above her, her legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer, teeth grazing his bottom lip and tongue exploring his mouth eagerly.

She comes with a strangled shout of his name against his shoulder and an intensity that makes her see spots behind closed eyelids as she climbs down from her high, Robin collapsing next to her and landing sweet kisses on her neck and shoulder as he catches his breath.

"That was definitely worth the wait," he tells her later, when they're curled up against each other, his nose nuzzling her hair.

"Mm, definitely," she agrees, shifting closer when his arms tighten around her, her lips planting a kiss over his heart before she lays her head there and lets her eyes finally droop, sleep taking her in seconds.

* * *

 On their last day in New York, they're back at Central Park, walking around until they reach Belvedere Castle and going all the way to the top to take in the amazing view. Robin holds her around the waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder, and while there are several layers of clothing between them, Regina thinks she can feel the heat from his body seep into hers, his warm breath washing over her cheek, cold lips pressing against her skin every now and then as they talk quietly, admiring the sight of the park once again covered in white, fluffy snow while the boys and Zelena take pictures. She hears the click of the camera near her, and turns to find her sister and son with sheepish smiles on their faces, Roland giggling at the fact that they've been caught taking photos of their parents in their little romantic bubble. Regina tries to look stern, but Robin is whispering sweet nothings into her ear, completely oblivious to the others' antics, bringing her back to the moment, and her eyes close as she leans back against him, rocking their bodies from one side to the other. Zelena then steers the boys away by asking them if they'd like to go back down and have a proper snowball fight, a proposition they agree to with enthusiastic nods as they make their way out of the castle, leaving Robin and Regina by themselves.

"This trip was a good idea," he mutters in her ear, hugging her tighter, nose buried in her neck.

"It was, I'm glad you convinced me to take the week off," she tells him, angling her head sideways so she can look at him, smiling at the way he stares at her, like she's the sole focus of his entire world.

"Glad to be of service, milady," he jokes, kissing the tip of her nose before she turns back to take in the view and one last, deep breath.

"Come on, let's go help Zelena defeat the boys in that snowball fight," she says with a smirk, moving out of his embrace and tugging on his hands.

When they rejoin their sons, there's a full on war going on. Several kids have joined in, forming a group of at least eight or nine boys and girls hurling chunks of snow at each other, and it's chaos, but Regina has never seen her sister look so happy than she does now, engaging the children and laughing as they throw snowballs her way.

Once the kids realize they're up against three adults, however, the game turns intense, and suddenly there are snowballs flying with a lot more force than before, one of them knocking a little boy right on his butt on the floor, his mother running to him instantly, her hands hovering over her son's body as she hurriedly assesses possible damage.

"You!" she barks at Roland, and Regina tenses up instantly, "how dare you hit my son like that?!"

"I'm sorry, we were just playing," Roland answers, and Regina can see the other boy trying to calm his mother down, telling her that he's fine, that nothing hurts.

"It's alright, Roland," Regina tells him, pointing at the other child, who is now looking up at his mother like she's grown a second head, "no harm done, see? Just be a little more careful next time."

"You're lucky your little savage didn't hurt my son, or I would be suing you!" the lady barks, and Regina's had just about enough of this.

"Don't you __dare__ call him that!" she seethes at the woman, and she can feel Roland cowering behind her, hiding his face in her coat, so she turns to him, runs her hand down his adorable locks, and tells him to go find Henry.

"This is why I never let you play with other children at the park, Georgie, dear. They're animals!" the woman says as she grabs her son's hand and tries to steer him away, but little George is resisting, wanting to get back in the game.

"You're being ridiculous," Regina tells her.

"And you're rude. Now I see why the runt you've raised is prone to violence."

"Excuse me?!" Regina fumes, walking closer to the woman as Roland's little friend finally manages to scurry away. "It was an accident!"

"Then maybe if you cut his hair a little, he'll see better when he's tossing things at people. Might help him not hurt other children next time," she snaps at Regina, "not to mention he'll look more like a boy and less like a badly groomed poodle."

"What the hell is your problem?! They're children, these things happen, stop being such a jerk about it," Regina growls, and when the other woman says something about Roland being a brat, she flies at her, only to be stopped by Robin's arms, which suddenly circle around her middle from behind and smack her against his chest to hold her back. It seems he's finally caught on to the fact that there's a problem.

"How __dare__  you?!" the woman balks, "do you know who you're talking to?! I am Drizella Tremaine."

"I'm sorry, is that supposed to mean something in particular?" Robin asks politely.

"My family owns Tremaine Records, and I'm their star singer," she tells him, her sneer turning into what Regina can only assume is the woman's attempt at a sexy smile, before she turns back to her, "You'd do well to treat your betters with respect. It's not my fault you can't control your son."

Regina sees red again, and roars "let me at her!" as she struggles against Robin's arms, her feet leaving the floor as she kicks and squirms in his grip.

"Hm, like I said, it's easy to see where the little one gets the knack for violence from," Drizella remarks, cool as a cucumber while she roams her gaze over Robin's form appreciatively.

"Excuse me?!" he thunders, and his momentary shock over the woman's comment allows Regina to make a break for it, liberating herself from his hold and stalking towards Drizella, until their faces are close enough that she can see the clumps of cheap mascara on the woman's lashes.

"Listen to me, you snide little bitch. I don't know what the hell kind of messed up person you are that you get a kick out of insulting little boys, but I will not have you using __my__  son to boost your ridiculous delusions of grandeur. The next time you so much as __look__ at my child, I'll claw your eyes out."

With that she turns and leaves, flipping her hair haughtily as she and Robin walk back to Roland, who is now playing alone with Henry, the rest of the crowd already dispersed thanks to the altercation between her and that idiot Drizella.

"As a lawyer, I have to tell you that what you just did is a big, fat mistake, messing with a woman like that in a public place. As your sister, however, all I can say is, holy crap! That was… inspired," Zelena tells her, laughing at Regina's flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, mom! That was awesome!" Henry intervenes.

"I actually think there's steam coming out of your ears right now," her sister comments.

"Ha, ha," she replies, rolling her eyes at Zelena.

"For what it's worth, mom, I'm a hundred percent sure you would've kicked that lady's ass."

"Language, Henry!" Regina chides instantly, but it's half-hearted, a smirk tugging at her lips as she looks at her son. Damn right, she would've kicked that wretched woman's ass.

* * *

 That night, when they're warm and cozy under the blankets, Robin wraps his arms around her and runs the tip of his nose down the slope of hers before staring at her, his beautiful blue eyes full of wonder.

"What?" she asks, and a smile forms on Robin's face.

"You called Roland your son today," he beams, and it's only then that Regina realizes that yes, she did.

"I… I'm sorry, I didn't even think about it, and she was being such a __bitch__ ," she insists exasperatedly, the rage she still feels towards that insufferable witch tumbling over her apology.

"You said he was your child," he says again, beaming at her.

"Well," she reasons, "he's as good as. And I'm sorry, Robin, I would never want to take Marian's place, I know how much it means to you that he grows up knowing about his Mama, I just couldn't stand there and let that woman say all those horrible things."

"Regina, don't apologize for loving my son as your own," he begs.

"You're not mad?"

"Of course not! Watching you go all mama bear on that woman? Seeing you protect Roland like that? I've never loved you more."

Her eyes water at his confession, and she doesn't know what to say to that, so she only cuddles closer, humming in satisfaction at the feel of his lips kissing her brow and letting the soothing motions of his fingers up and down her arm lull her to sleep.

They return home the next day, and by the end of that week, Robin and Roland are moved out of their suite at Granny's and into Regina's house, ready to start a new adventure. The adventure of being a family.


	3. Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: They meet by the coffee machine at the hospital while both their kids are sick.

The coffee is terrible. Absolutely terrible, and Regina despises it, but she cannot bring herself to leave the hospital for a decent cup of the stuff, not when her son is suffering on a bed a few feet away, fighting off the pneumonia that has taken residence in his tiny body, crying for his mom every few minutes when his discomfort is too much, or just because he wants her to be there, to hug him and comfort him while the meds work their magic on him.

It hurt her so much to watch him, to see him battling against this stupid disease, and it is all her fault. If she had just paid more attention to the symptoms, they wouldn't be spending Christmas Eve at this stupid hospital, with her little boy strapped to IVs and machines, sick and miserable.

She's so caught up in her own thoughts, berating herself for not taking better care of her son, that she doesn't realize she's about to run straight into someone as she turns around from the coffee machine to walk back to Henry's room, and suddenly she crashes against a hard chest, the fresh smell of pine enveloping her even as she sees her disgusting coffee spill onto the man's arm, and suddenly she's mumbling startled apologies and urgently trying to wipe the mess she's made on the sleeve of his jacket. He shakes his head good-naturedly as he tells her it's no trouble, then proceeds to gently grab her hand when she doesn't stop her nervous attempts at cleaning him up.

She hasn't slept in over twenty-four hours, and she's rattled, and scared, and so, so tired of this hospital and its doctors and the __stupid__   _ _coffee__ , that this little mishap manages to tip her over the edge, and suddenly her eyes are wet with tears as she continues to apologize profusely, her hands trembling. The man stops her by running his hand up and down her arm, muttering a sympathetic "hey, it's alright, it's okay," and it's only then that she looks at his face. He's giving her a small smile, displaying lovely dimples on his cheeks, the shape of his jaw enticing her thanks to the light stubble that lines it. A lock of dark blond hair falls just above his eyebrow, skin crinkling at the corners of eyes so blue she could get lost in them for hours. __Wow__.

"I take it you've been here a while?" his deep, velvety voice and lovely accent bring her out of the trance his looks have induced on her, and she shakes her head to clear it before she speaks.

"Four days and counting, my son has pneumonia," she tells him, hastily wiping what's left of her tears and taking a sip of what little liquid remains in her cup. She grimaces at the taste.

"Ah! I see I'm not the only one who hates the coffee in this place," he says with a chuckle, and Regina exhales a short laugh, shaking her head.

"Dreadful, isn't it?" he asks, and she hums in agreement.

"I don't know how I've managed to survive on it, if I'm honest," she confesses.

"You mean to tell me you haven't left this hospital since you came in?" he's baffled, and she doesn't know why she wants to ease the frown that has settled on his face, but she hurries to reassure him anyway.

"It's not so bad, I sleep on the couch in Henry's room, and I have a friend bring me clothes and things I might need from home."

"I'd imagine I'd do the same, were I in your position," he concedes after a moment.

"You mean you're not?" she asks with curiosity.

"Not exactly. We've only been here for the day. Roland, my son, fell from his tree house a few hours ago, he has a broken wrist and a mild concussion. They're keeping him overnight for observation."

"Poor thing, how old is he?"

"Four. Yours?"

"Ten."

"Is his father with him now?" the handsome stranger asks then, and Regina feels herself blush.

"There's no father. Single mom."

"Well, then, two single parents with two ailing little boys. We ought to form a support group," he quips, and she smiles, secretly feeling a little thrill at the fact that there's no wife to claim him.

"Regina," she says simply, offering her free hand to him, the other still gripping the cup with what's left of her disgusting coffee, which has now run cold.

"Oh, apologies," he tells her, realizing he has yet to introduce himself, "Robin Locksley."

When their hands touch, she feels a spark, a little lick of electricity that runs up and down her spine, his smile making it that much more difficult for her to let go of his fingers where they're clasped over hers.

"I'm sorry about before, I just… it's been a stressful few days," she says then, remembering that only minutes ago she'd not only spilled a hot beverage on his arm, but also broken down in front of him.

"It's not a problem, I understand," he says, giving her a sympathetic smile as he goes to fix himself his own coffee.

"Poor boy, must be horrid to be sick on Christmas."

"He's trying to pass it off like it's no big deal, but I'm his mother, I know he's miserable," she says with a sad smile.

"So is Roland, he's not happy about having to stay here for the night and miss Santa's arrival. In fact, he was adamant that I send Santa a letter asking him if he could please delay Christmas so that he had time to get home to wait for his presents."

"He didn't!" Regina gasped in amusement, and Robin nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Oh, he most certainly did. I had to tell him Santa's sleigh is a rental that he __has__  to return on Christmas day and that that's why he can't delay his delivery of presents to children all over the world."

"And who exactly does he rent the sleigh from?" Regina asks, not really expecting an answer, merely enjoying the hilarity of it all, but the handsome man in front of her surprises her yet again.

"The Easter Bunny."

"You told your son Santa rents his sleigh from the Easter Bunny?!" she asks incredulously, snorting as she imagines the entire scenario.

"Hey! It was the best I could think of on the spot," he laughs back, and for a moment they look at each other with mirth dancing in their eyes before Regina shakes her head slowly and begins to move.

"I should get back to Henry."

"Yes, of course. But, maybe I'll see you around later?"

"Maybe," she answers with a coy smile.

"Great. Can't wait," he says with a wink as he starts walking back to his son's room, and Regina feels her skin tingle over how excited he seems at the prospect of seeing her again.

It doesn't last long, however, because she doesn't see him again, not until he's walking out the door of the hospital the next day with his son in tow, who is waving goodbye to the nurses and shouting to anyone who'll hear that he's going home to look at his presents. If it weren't for the fact that she'd been accompanying Henry to get some more tests done, she wouldn't have seen the man at all, and she mentally kicks herself for getting her hopes up.

Emma drops by later that night, brings her clothes and another of Henry's favorite blankets, promises him tons of ice cream when he's better and spends some time watching cartoons with him in his room, giving Regina time to shower and grab another cup of the horrible coffee from the machine down the hall.

"You're just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?" a voice says from behind her, and she turns to find Robin staring back at her with a smirk on his face.

"What are you doing here? Is Roland alright? I thought you left this morning."

"I did, and he's fine. He had a grand time opening all his Christmas presents, though I think he was more excited about ripping the paper apart than he was to actually see what he got."

"He's at home?"

"Yes, his uncles are looking after him for now."

"Then why are you here?" she asks, confused.

"Thought you could use the company," he shrugs, smiling as he brings his hand forth and offers her a bag from the cookie shop down the street, and she understands then that he came back for _ _her__. The realization makes her stomach flutter.

"Thank you," she says, giving him a coy smile as she takes the bag, "but you really didn't have to do this, I'm sure you'd rather spend time with your son."

"He's basking in being the center of attention at home at the moment, I doubt he'll even notice I'm gone until it's time for bed and Uncle John screws up the voices of the characters from his bedtime stories," he chuckles, and Regina grins back at him.

"So did Santa return the sleigh to the Easter Bunny on time?"

"He did," he smirks, moving closer to her.

"Good," Regina replies, standing up just a little straighter so that their bodies are even closer, and she knows she shouldn't be flirting with a stranger in a hospital while her son is sick just a few doors away, but she can't help it when Robin is looking at her with that sparkle in those blue eyes of his and smiling like he knows exactly what she's doing.

"Regina."

"Yes?"

"I, I don't mean to be forward, but… Could I see you again? Outside these dire circumstances? Maybe with a decent cup of coffee instead of that dreadful watered down thing you keep drinking?"

He's nervous, she notices, his body language is screaming it at her. One hand scratching the back of his neck, the other retracting when he realizes he'd stretched it out to grab hers. His eyes are earnest, though, firm and pleading, begging her silently to accept his invitation.

"I'd love to," she says, smiling to put him at ease, and he grins back in relief.

They exchange numbers, and their fingers brush when he returns her phone to her with his name and contact info now saved on it.

"Is Friday alright?"

"Henry should be home by then," she nods, "and I'm going to hold you to the promise of proper coffee, you better not disappoint me on that."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he says, grinning at her again, and she feels silly and giddy, and she likes it, but then something terrible interrupts their moment.

"Regina, something's wrong!" Emma's voice breaks through the silence of the hallway, and she drops her paper cup of coffee and the bag of cookies Robin's just given her and runs to her son's room.

* * *

 

It's chaos, nurses and doctors are hurrying in and out of the room and all Regina can do is stare in horror as they try to revive her son, who according to Emma, basically collapsed after he complained that he couldn't breathe. They work on him for what seems like hours, and Regina feels herself being dragged away by strong arms that later envelop her when she begins to cry and thrash in an attempt to make her way back to Henry, who's alone in the room with the doctors now.

"Shh, it's alright, he's going to be okay, just let them do their job," Robin's soothing voice whispers in her ear, and only then does she take in her surroundings. Emma's sitting in one of the chairs in the hall, elbows perched on her thighs, her head in her hands as she mutters silently and rocks back and forth, and Robin, Robin is right there behind Regina, supporting her and restraining her at the same time, and she finally allows herself to be held, hugged tightly to his chest while she cries into his jacket.

"I can't lose him," she mumbles against the fabric, and he runs a hand up and down her back and reassures her that she won't, that Henry will be just fine.

Once the tears have died down and she's sat next to Emma, Robin takes his phone out of his pocket and makes a call, telling the person on the other end that something has come up and he won't be coming home tonight.

"Will you be alright with Roland for the night?" he asks into the phone, and Regina looks up.

"You don't have to—" she begins, but he holds up a finger, says his thanks and goodbyes, and hangs up.

"Roland—" she starts again.

"Will be well looked after while I'm gone."

"But—"

"Regina, I'm staying," he says, his tone kind but firm as he crouches down in front of her so that their faces are level. His hand reaches up to hold hers on her lap, "and Henry will get through this."

She nods, lets the tears fall once again, Robin holding one of her hands while Emma holds the other.

"Ms. Mills?" a nurse says timidly after minutes that feel eternal, and Regina stands and gestures urgently to the elderly woman.

"How's my son?"

"He's stable," the words have all her breath leaving her in seconds, and she collapses in Robin's arms again, sobbing with relief as the nurse continues to speak. "We added more meds to his IV and are monitoring him closely, but Dr. Whale is certain he'll make a full recovery and you'll be able to take him home soon."

"Thank you," she breathes, "can I see him?"

"Sure, right this way," the nurse says and guides her back to the room, leaving Robin and Emma just outside.

Her little boy is pale, sleeping, and hooked to machines, much as he's been since he got here, but for once, the green spikes on the screen and the blaring beep-beep-beep of the machine are a welcome thing, proof that he's there, that he's alive. Regina sits gingerly on the bed next to him, pushes the soft brown hair off his forehead and places a kiss there.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," she says, tears falling from her eyes before she kisses him one more time and moves back, sitting on the chair next to the bed and looking at him, at the rise and fall of his chest and trying to calm her nerves now that she knows he'll be alright.

It's an hour and a half before she emerges, and she finds Emma sitting in the same chair, half asleep, but perks up when she sees her.

"How is he?"

"Still sleeping," Regina tells her friend, "his breathing seems less labored now, so I'm guessing that's good."

"My godson's a fighter, he'll be okay," Emma tells her with a small smile, one that Regina returns before she stares back through the glass panels that line her son's room.

"So… Robin," Emma says then, and Regina turns to look at her.

"What about him?"

"We talked for a bit while you were in there. He seems… interesting."

"I only met him yesterday."

"He likes you. Like, big time."

"He's just being nice."

"Regina, his kid isn't even in this hospital anymore and he still came back to see you, that's way more than just being nice."

"I think he asked me out… on a date… right before this happened."

"And did you say yes?" Emma asks, and Regina nods shyly.

"Atta girl."

"I can't think about that right now, Emma," she snaps. She's drained, and so, so tired, it's starting to wear on her now that the adrenaline has left her, and her entire body is beginning to ache.

"All I'm saying is he seems to be one of the good ones. If he wants to be here, if he wants to make you happy, let him."

"Where is he, anyway?" she asks when she notices Robin is nowhere to be seen.

"He went to get us some Chinese food," Emma says with a grin, "see? One of the good ones."

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" Regina replies, taking a deep breath and allowing herself a few moments to relax.

Robin stays the night, then goes home the next day and comes back around noon to check on them, brings along a delicious lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and a huge cup of real coffee for her, and the gesture has her smiling despite the bags under her eyes and the tiredness of her body. He sits with her while Emma goes home to change, and Regina falls asleep with her head on his shoulder while the nurses tend to Henry. When Emma returns, Robin goes home to Roland, and they continue on that pattern for the next few days. When Henry is less groggy and fully awake on New Year's Eve, Robin brings Roland over and they both introduce themselves to her son, who immediately takes a liking to them, and then that very night, when the clock strikes midnight and Robin is hoisting a sleepy Roland up, he says his goodbyes and wishes Regina a happy new year with a kiss to her forehead, and it feels so natural for her that she doesn't realize it's the first time he's done that until he's already out the door.

When he's not at the hospital, they text, and they flirt shamelessly.

__-Would you mind if I stop by later?_ _

__-Henry's out for the night. Emma's staying while I go home for a bit to take a real shower._ _

__-Why, Ms. Mills, are you inviting me over to your place already?_ _

__-Don't flatter yourself. But maybe soon, if you play your cards right…_ _

__-I think I'm up to the challenge ;)_ _

__-See you tomorrow?_ _

__-I'll bring breakfast._ _

True to his word, he's carrying a bag of bagels the next day when he arrives.

"Good news?" he asks when he realizes she's beaming.

"Henry gets to go home tomorrow," she reveals, ecstatic.

"That's wonderful!" he tells her, and she sees that he's genuinely happy for her, so she throws her arms around him before she even realizes what she's doing, but he holds onto her, letting her know the contact is welcome.

"Have you told him yet?"

"Doctor Whale did, just now."

"He must be excited."

"He's on the phone with Emma planning a movie night as we speak," she tells him with a smile.

"Of course he is," Robin says with a chuckle.

They eat their breakfast, with Robin stopping in to say hello to Henry and invite him over for a little Nintendo competition once he's doing better, and her son accepts enthusiastically, already telling Robin he and Roland are going down once he and Emma take over the game.

The dynamic they've fallen into is easy, comfortable, and it makes her smile even after breakfast is over and Robin is putting on his coat to head back out.

"Thank you," Regina says then, her voice becoming softer as she looks up at him, and it's there again, that sparkle in his eyes that makes butterflies erupt in her belly, "for being here, for looking out for us these last few of days, I don't know what I would've done if…"

He runs his hands up and down her arms, smiling at her as he mutters, "hey, don't think about that right now. Your boy is alright, and you get to take him home tomorrow."

Regina exhales in relief, the words sounding all the more reassuring when uttered by that deep, smooth voice of his.

"Yeah," she wants to say something else, something more, but her nerves are still acting up, and she has no idea if whatever she's felt is going on between them is mutual or if it's all been friendly banter that she's taken too far, even though he had asked her out. Her uncertainty wins out, so she merely says "I'll see you around, okay?" and turns, walking away from him and inwardly cringing at the awkwardness of her departure.

"You still owe me that date," he calls after her, and she stops just as her hand reaches the handle of the door to Henry's room, keeping her back to Robin so that he doesn't see her smiling like an idiot as she cheekily replies.

"Yes, I suppose I do." 

* * *

 

She doesn't see him again until a week after Henry leaves the hospital, when he drops by unexpected one afternoon and invites her out for coffee.

"The real thing this time," he assures her, "I have a promise to keep."

"You brought me decent coffee to the hospital plenty of times, I think your debt is paid," she jokes.

"Not by a long shot, and that was not decent coffee, but next to what you were drinking, anything was better."

"Well, then, coffee master, lead the way," she accepts with a smile, grabbing her coat and scarf and waving goodbye to Henry and Emma, who are sprawled on the couch watching Disney movies, empty mugs of tea on the table.

They walk to his car, the crisp winter air chilling her enough to tighten her coat around her body, but then Robin is holding her hand as he leads the way, and a warmth that has nothing to do with the many layers she's wearing spreads through her. He doesn't let go of her hand as he drives, and when they reach their destination, he takes a moment to just look at her before he opens the door.

"What?" she asks, amused.

"You're beautiful," the sincerity in his voice makes her blush and wave him off.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she tells him in jest, but he frowns, shakes his head as he lets his hand reach up and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I mean it, Regina. I think you're stunning… in every way."

"Thank you," she whispers back, looking down to hide her blush.

When they finally leave the car, her hand once again grasped in his, she takes in her surroundings, realizes they've reached a very tiny, quaint little coffee house, with a couple of wooden tables outside and cozy booths inside, a blackboard announcing the day's specials in white chalk rests by the entrance, a huge, vintage espresso maker behind the counter acting as the main piece in the shop, the smell of coffee wrapping around her as she takes a deep breath and looks around.

"Hey there, boss!" someone shouts from behind the case full of delicious-looking treats.

"Mary, I trust everything is going alright today?" he asks as he returns the girl's greeting, and Regina gives him an incredulous look.

"You own this place?!"

"Welcome to Sherwood," he replies with a wink, pointing up at the green sign above the door, lit up by the glow of the lamps that hang from the low wooden ceiling.

"Why did you bring me coffee from some random chain coffee place near the hospital, when you had this?!" Regina asks, unable to put the question out of her mind.

"I wanted to keep it a surprise for when I finally got to take you out," he answers with a wink, making her laugh softly before she realizes they have an audience.

"Oh, right, where are my manners? Regina, this is Mary Margaret, she manages the place," he says as he introduces the two women. Mary smiles at her, then chances a look at Robin and winks at him, elbows him playfully in the arm and then asks her what she'd like to drink.

Regina has an array of choices from what she can see on the menu, but Robin squeezes her hand to gently interrupt her perusal of her options and asks if it's alright for him to take care of their beverages, assures her he has just the thing for them.

"Alright, but if it tastes anything like that coffee from the hospital I'm walking," she taunts, and Robin acts offended, putting a hand to his chest as he raises the retractable end of the counter with the other and passes through to fix their drinks.

"How dare you imply such a thing?! I would never inflict that poison on my clients."

"But you would happily watch me drink it and call me a glutton for punishment?" Regina fires back with a raise of her eyebrow, and Robin laughs as he takes two cups and begins preparing their coffee.

"I apologize about that, but it was hilarious watching you drink it and then scowl with every sip," he teases, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

"Hilarious and adorable," he amends as he stops what he's doing and looks at her again, the intensity of his gaze breaking her playful mood for a second before she plops herself up on one of the stools by the counter and watches him work.

A few minutes later, they're sitting in a booth at the corner of the shop, his eyes intent on hers as he watches her take the first sip of her drink, some fancy Colombian roast Robin insists is the best he's ever had. Regina makes a show of trying the coffee he's made for her, takes a whiff of the vapor coming from her cup, then slowly gulps a tiny portion of it, swirls it around her tongue, but the joke is on her now, because she's finding it incredibly hard not to moan at the rich, delicious taste of the drink. It really is great coffee.

"Nectar of the gods," she finally admits, taking another sip and secretly enjoying the way his eyes rake up and down her form, distracted by the deep V of the shirt she's wearing, now that she's shed her coat and scarf.

They talk, and they flirt, and his hand is holding hers across the table the entire time, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin every now and then, his eyes shining as he tells her of Roland, as he hears her speak of Henry, and Regina marvels at how great this is going, baffled that she finds it so easy to reveal herself to him after being overprotective of her heart for so long.

They realize it's dinner time when her stomach growls loudly, and Robin smiles, stands up and offers her his hand, which she takes with as much grace as she can muster after the embarrassing display her body just gave him, and follows him into the kitchen of the shop.

"Now, we don't really serve food here other than the pastries you saw out front, but I have some groceries here that I've yet to take home so if you'd like, I could whip something up for us. Unless, of course, you'd rather we go somewhere?"

"Oh no, you can cook, let's see if you can impress me with your kitchen skills," she challenges. He smirks seductively at her and walks closer.

"And what do I get if I do?" he asks, his voice low.

"I'll think of something," she replies with a wink, then heads to the other side of the kitchen and sits on a small chair that rests there while he moves around and starts chopping up herbs and seasoning chicken breasts. After an hour or so of flirty banter and Regina's mouth watering at the smells that have overtaken the kitchen, he declares their dinner ready and serves them chicken with a tangy cilantro sauce and some grilled veggies on the side. He's eager to see if he's won her little challenge, and when she __mmm__ 's appreciatively at her first bite, he digs his teeth in his bottom lip and then gives her a smug grin as he tucks into his food. They talk some more, Regina compliments him on his cooking, Robin tells her about treats he likes to indulge in sometimes, and before she knows it, their plates are empty and he's helping her back into her coat and leading her to his car.

The drive back to her apartment is charged with sexual energy, Robin's touch growing a little more bold when she nods at his silent request and lets him rest his hand on her leg this time. Regina has a hard time concentrating on his speech because all she can focus on is the warm, delicious feeling of his fingers absentmindedly rubbing her thigh over her jeans.

When he parks the car, he turns to look at her, much like he did when they reached his coffee shop. One hand is on the wheel still, the one on her leg reaching for her hand and squeezing it.

"I've had the most marvelous time this evening," he tells her, and she can't help it, she snorts out a laugh.

"You are so formal," she jokes, "is that a British thing?"

"Merely my attempts at being chivalrous while wooing you, milady," he tells her, and the glint in his eye lets her know he's laying it on thick for her amusement, and she laughs some more.

"I really enjoy hearing you laugh, Regina," he admits, "and that smile of yours drives me crazy, if I'm honest."

"Good crazy, or bad crazy?" she asks, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

"Naughty crazy," he says as he wiggles his eyebrows at her, and then they both burst into laughter before Robin finally gets out of the car and goes around to open the door for her.

"I really did have a great time tonight," he tells her again when they reach the entrance to her building, his hands holding hers at their sides, head leaning so close he can almost rest his forehead on hers.

"So did I," she begins, "and I must admit, it's nice to see you live up to your promises."

"I'm a man of honor, milady," he uses the formal title again, winking at her as one of his hands abandons hers and moves up to rest by her waist, "and speaking of promises, I believe a prize for upholding my end of the cooking challenge is in order."

"You mean my admitting I was impressed was not enough?" she's playing with him now, testing the waters to see what it is he wants from her as his reward.

"It's a start," he says, "but there's another token I'd like from you."

"And what would that be?"

"A kiss," he answers, smiling as his nose brushes hers.

"Well, aren't you greedy?" she breathes in the space between them, she'd meant to sound incredulous, to laugh it off and joke with him some more, but she can't stop the way her body reacts to him, can't stop herself from reaching a hand up and around his neck to play with the hair at the nape of it.

"I am, yes," he admits in answer to her question, his voice husky as his lips hover over hers, "and you like it."

She surprises even herself when she's the one closing the space between them, slowly planting her mouth on his and letting the warmth of him spread through her. It's chaste and sweet for the first few moments, his hand tangling in her hair, thumb rubbing her cheekbone as he lays gentle pecks on her lips, and then he sucks lightly at her bottom lip, draws her closer with the hand he has around her waist, and deepens the kiss, moaning into her mouth when she opens for him and lets her tongue explore and play with his.

It's a few heady minutes before he lets go, and she giggles a little at the red smear of her lipstick on his swollen lips, but leans back in and kisses him again, more playful this time, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip when he stops to take a breath and dragging it towards her, fusing their mouths back together and making her gasp when his hands drop down to palm her rear.

"Is this okay?" he asks against her mouth, and she nods and kisses him some more, one arm across his shoulders, the other caressing down his back until it wraps around his waist.

They part again, and he chuckles at her.

"What?" she asks, a curious smile on her face.

"I'm afraid I got a little carried away with your hair," he answers, and Regina looks over his shoulder and catches a glimpse of herself in the glass that lines the building's entrance. Her hair is completely tousled, tumbling all around her face in disarray, she looks back at him with a grin.

"It was worth it," she tells him, leaning up to drop a chaste kiss on his lips.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" he asks, dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose, his hand back in her hair.

"You better," she whispers into the space between them before she pulls away and heads for the door with keys in hand. He watches her go with a stupid smile on his face, one she's sure is mirrored on her own and won't go away anytime soon.


	4. Circumstances, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cheated.

"It's not what it looks like!" she says quickly as she runs after him.

"Oh, I'm fairly certain that it is," he fires back, his tone bitter as he walks hurriedly away, his back to her.

"Robin, please, I can explain," she calls after him, and she'd venture a guess that it's the hint of desperation in her voice that makes him stop and turn to look at her.

"Why did you do it?" he asks, and she steels herself to answer his question.

"I needed it, and I was late, and Sherwood is so far out of my way—"

"So you went __there__ instead?!" he's hurt, she can see that, hurt and indignant at her choice.

It's been two months since that first cup of horrid coffee had them bumping into each other at the hospital. Two months of many lovely, unforgettable dates. Regina finds herself smiling like an idiot more often than not, much to Henry and Emma's annoyance, but then she sees them smirk knowingly at each other and she knows they don't mind. Mutual sleepovers (with and without the kids) are a regular occurrence now, sometimes the boys even spend the night at Emma's across the hall so that Regina and Robin can have her apartment to themselves. Regina has even made a habit of stopping by for breakfast at Sherwood Coffee House every morning before work. Well, __almost__  every morning.

As an Art History professor at the local university, Regina is expected to uphold a rigorous class schedule, and this morning she'd been running late. She'd talked (sexted, really) with Robin until late last night and slept through her alarm, which meant her usual detour to Sherwood was out of the question today if she wanted to make it to campus on time. She really does depend on her morning dose of caffeine to function, however, so when she'd finished teaching her first class of the day, she'd ducked into the small Starbucks located near the admissions building and ordered herself some coffee. She'd been looking down and inside her bag when she entered her office and had not realized someone was already there.

"You didn't stop by the coffee house so I figured I'd come over and..." he'd trailed off when he'd seen what she was holding, had merely stood there, clutching a small brown paper bag –that surely contained her usual croissant—, and a large coffee from Sherwood in his hands, looking like she'd just kicked his puppy. She was so busted.

This is why they're arguing in her office now, his temper flaring as he stares accusingly at the Starbucks cup in her hand, acting like she's betrayed him. And she supposes, in a way, she has.

She walks up to him, eyes apologetic as she does. He's still holding the small bag with her food in one hand and her coffee in the other, some of the beverage spilt over the rim of the cup in his haste to get away, until she'd stopped him by closing the door before he could walk through it. She takes both items now, places them gently on top of the mini fridge she keeps here, and turns back to him with a defeated sigh.

"Alright, you caught me. But I was running very late, it was easier to just grab something here. I'm sorry, okay?" she insists, trying to find his eyes with hers, but he's being a petulant child about it all and looking away from her, pouting the entire time. She should be annoyed, angry at him for making such a big deal out of this (he'd brought her coffee from chain coffee shops all the time while Henry was at the hospital, after all, even if he'd only done it to keep Sherwood a surprise for their first date), but he looks so cute, all rumpled up and jealous, that she can't help but grin in amusement.

"It's not funny," he tells her in a low voice, and she reaches up a hand to cup his cheek.

"I'm sorry I cheated on you with Starbucks," she says, laughter clear in her tone, and Robin rolls his eyes at her and crosses his arms, extricating himself from her touch.

"You know, this is partially your fault," she says then, and he zeroes in on her face.

"Excuse me?!" he asks incredulously.

"The only reason I grabbed coffee here instead of Sherwood is that I overslept and was late for work."

"Yes, you've said that," Robin replies icily.

"Well, the reason I overslept was because you, mister, were sending me a lot of naughty text messages late into the night," she teases, "you kept me awake past my bed time."

"Oh, so it's on me, now. Brilliant!" he's still pissed, she can see that, sees that humor is perhaps not the best tactic to curve his unnecessary, ridiculously misplaced jealousy.

"Robin, you know that's not what I meant," she says, still finding it hilarious that he would react like this to something so silly. "Come on," she insists as she slowly walks him back until he's perched on the corner of her desk, "forgive me?"

He's still quiet, still fuming, shallow breaths easing in and out of him as he sits on the polished wooden surface, so she changes gears, running her fingers down his neck with feather-like touches over that particular spot near his shoulder that drives him crazy, and though he refuses to turn his head towards her, she can see how it affects him, notices the way his Adam's apple bobs and his eyes drift shut at the sensations, and she ventures her other hand lower, ghosts it over the inside of his thigh, then 'accidentally' brushes against him.

"Please?" she asks, lips dropping kisses on his neck, earning a sharp inhale from him in response.

"Regina, what are you doing?" he questions, voice husky and full of want now that her fingers have lost their hesitance and are skimming up and down his crotch as she nibbles his earlobe.

"I'm apologizing," she says innocently, tracing a line of kisses from his chin to his throat, her hands abandoning their teasing touches for a moment to unbutton his shirt so she can continue pressing her lips down his chest.

He says nothing, but in seconds, their positions are reversed as she's lifted onto the side edge of her desk and his lips are blazing a trail down her neck, then back up to her jaw as he strips off his shirt, and his tongue is leaving wet little patterns on her skin as he lavishes it with attention, his teeth nipping every now and then, nose nudging fabric away so he can gain access to more of her, making her gasp and moan and arch further into him with the help of the arm he has firmly wrapped around her waist, his other hand buried in her hair, pulling slightly, deliciously, and she devours his mouth when it comes back up to reattach itself to hers, her legs parting to welcome him between them.

He's hard, she can feel it against her core even through the layers of fabric that still separate them, and her breathing turns quicker, more shallow, desire evident in her tone as she grinds against him and mutters, "more."

"Are you sure?" he asks against her lips, "you're at work."

It's true, she's at work, but her office is secluded in the far side of the faculty building, and the stark white neon lights are off, and the one window next to the door will block anyone's view into the space thanks to the blinds she always keeps shut. The fact that they're about to engage in very inappropriate behavior during her break between classes has a little thrill running through her, so she takes his hand, kisses the pads of his fingers, and slowly sneaks it down and under her skirt, the fabric riding up as she maneuvers his wrist so that his fingers can feel how wet she is for him.

"I'm sure," she breathes in answer to his question, and loves the way he groans against her.

She pushes him off her gently, standing up and divesting herself of her clothes slowly, piece by piece, with her eyes burning into his whenever he's not staring at the new skin she reveals. Regina bites her lip when the last of their garments have fallen off their bodies and piled on the floor, and then he's on her, kissing her hungrily and sinking to his knees in front of her, tongue peeking out to lick at his lips as he takes her in.

"God I love the way you taste," he rasps against her when he laps up the wetness between her thighs, giving her clit a little suck at the end before he licks again, and again, and again, inserting two fingers inside her and going back to sucking on her clit once more, thrusting his fingers just a little harder when she writhes under his touch.

"Fuck!" Regina shouts, her hips rolling against his tongue as her hand darts into his hair, scratching his scalp and earning herself a moan of delight from him, one that reverberates against her and makes her body sing. He resorts to placing open-mouthed kisses along her inner thighs, his fingers working at a fast pace inside her, and she cries out something incoherent, and then hollers that she's close, that she needs his mouth again, and he eagerly complies, licking at her as he adds a third finger and fucks his hand into her harder. With one last sucking kiss at her clit, she's coming, gasping and crying out his name in ecstasy, and she doesn't even give herself time to recover before she's dragging him up by the shoulders and letting him settle above her, kissing him and savoring that intoxicating combination of her arousal and his tongue for a moment before she scoots back on the desk and drags him more fully on top of her, moving her hips so that her wet sex brushes against his cock over and over, making him grunt and grab her waist, his fingers digging into her skin.

"I want you," he pleads as her hand grabs his cock and gently squeezes him once, twice, a third time as she moves her hand up and down his shaft, and only lets go when he bends over to retrieve a condom from his discarded pants. He rolls it on, pumping himself for a moment as he looks and looks at her, and then he eases into her with a groan, and she's gone. She loves this, basks in the knowledge that she can turn this man into the blubbering mess he is now, letting out incoherent phrases where she can only make out the occasional "so good" and "fuck!" as she picks up the pace, moving faster and faster until suddenly, they lose balance, and are tumbling to the floor in a heap, taking one of the chairs down with them.

They take a moment to look at each other, panting and assessing possible injuries, and when none are revealed, they laugh for long minutes, her head resting on the crook of his neck where they lie, entangled with each other on the floor as they catch their breath.

"We broke the chair. I'm gonna get in big trouble for that," she says, snickering at the mess around them.

"Serves you right for going to Starbucks," he chastises as he moves to sit with his back against the desk, but she can see that he's joking now, his anger having finally dissipated.

"Right… where were we?" she asks then, a mischievous smile forming on her lips as she raises herself up and straddles his lap, sliding herself along his cock.

They slow down this time, enjoying each other, his hands playing with her breasts, his mouth sucking her nipples as she moans and rolls her hips against him, until they're panting and groaning and he clutches her, brings her closer and nips at her chin, her jaw. Her second orgasm hits her when his fingers find her clit and rub, sending electric shocks of pleasure through her whole body, and he joins her only a few firm thrusts after that.

When he begins to soften inside her, Robin pulls out and takes off the condom, throws it in the small trash bin by the desk, and then they sprawl on the floor, spent and sated, and she raises herself up on her elbows and looks at him with a huge smile on her face.

"So?" she asks. He chuckles in response, draws her closer into him and kisses her, slowly and sweetly, tasting her and humming in satisfaction as their mouths dance together.

"You're forgiven," he whispers then, and she knows they should get up, should get dressed and clean up the disaster they've made of her office, but as he hugs her tighter to his body and cards his fingers through her hair, Regina can't bring herself to care one bit about the mess, and rather burrows closer into his embrace, breathing him in and smiling as she drops a tiny kiss to his chest.


	5. Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Masquerade Ball (for OQ Week 2015)

He only sees her for a moment, a dash of red in a sea of blacks and whites and purples and blues, figure hugged by the sinful silhouette of her dress. She's the queen, he knows that much, can tell by the lavish gold embroidery on her bust line, the expensive jewels adorning her hands, ears and neck. The grace, the poise, the confidence, the lethal, sensual sway of her hips, they're all there, and she remains every bit the royal temptation he's heard her to be, making her easy to spot despite the black lace-lined mask she wears. Her lips are plump and coated in red, and he wants nothing more than to taste them, taste _her._  But he isn't here for that, he's here to steal her emerald crown, the one that rests in her vault just a few feet below where they're standing now. That crown will make him a small fortune once he sells it to the pirates down at the docks, and he cannot take any chances.

Still, as he looks around and realizes she's gone, he can't help but wonder where she is, what she's doing, if she's still here somewhere, admiring the crowd that has gathered at the palace to celebrate this ridiculous ball.

"You don't look familiar," a sultry voice says from behind him, and he turns to find the very object of his thoughts staring back at him from where she hides behind a pillar.

"Isn't that the point of a masked ball, your majesty?" he asks teasingly as he bows, making sure his mask is secure around his face.

"So, you know who I am."

"You're the most beautiful woman in the room, mask or no mask, it wasn't difficult to figure out."

"Don't try to charm your way out of this, it won't work," she says, though her voice is seductive, and he realizes that she likes this little game they're starting.

"Like I said, isn't the point of a masked ball to keep identities a secret?" he asks again.

"Yes, but I know the nobles at my court, I can always tell who's under each mask. You, however, you I've yet to place, which means you've either snuck in to enjoy a party you were not invited to, or you're here to take something while you think no one's looking."

"Ah, you really are as cunning as you are gorgeous," he says, though he doesn't clarify which of her guesses is the correct one, merely walks closer to her and allows himself a glance at her body, eyes raking up and down her form. He thinks he sees her shudder, but she pulls herself up a little taller, looks him in the eye and commands in that enticing voice of hers that he reveal himself.

"Mask off, thief," she demands, and he grins, because the name she's used to address him alerts him to the fact that she's arrived to the correct conclusion, knows exactly what it is he's here to do, but he can tell she's intrigued by him, if only for the fact that she has yet to call her guards.

"Where would the fun be in that?" he fires back, smirking at her in a way that seems to infuriate and excite her at the same time. She huffs, then draws herself up to her full height as she looks at him.

"I am your queen, you will do as I command or you will be punished."

"As long as it's you doing the punishing, I'm willing to bear it," he flirts, and feels pleased with himself when he sees the corner of her mouth lift the tiniest bit.

"You're taunting the Evil Queen, you're a fool."

"From where I'm standing, the 'Evil' moniker seems somewhat of an overstatement. Bold and audacious perhaps, stunning for sure, but not evil."

"Is that your way of testing me? Because I assure you, you'll regret it," she says, but he's walking away, knowing she'll follow, loving the indignant tone of her voice as she calls out to him and asks him to stop, but he doesn't, not once, leading her down hall after hall until they reach an area where he knows they're alone and won't be interrupted anytime soon.

"How about a deal?" he proposes.

"I don't make deals," she says, a bit rattled by his words, though he cannot fathom why.

"Alright, a trade, then," he amends as he moves closer to her, his breath washing over her, his hips almost touching hers, "I'll remove my mask, if you remove yours."

"Why would I do anything you say?"

"Because deep down you're as curious as I am to see where this goes," he says easily, because he has her completely figured out, and the fact that she seems to want this little dalliance to continue has him forgetting for a moment that he has a job to do.

"Am I, now?" she challenges.

"Oh, yes, you __want__  to see what's under my mask, but not for the purposes you claim."

"Then for what, pray tell, would I want to see your face, other than to know what to have sketched on the WANTED posters if you escape?"

"Because you want to see if you're as attracted to me as I am to you."

"I don't need to see your face to know that, it's already quite clear you're nothing to me."

"Really?" he asks, moving closer still, and the fact that she has not shoved him off her, that she's letting him invade her space and nudge his nose against hers, says more than her bitter words ever could.

"Yes," she says, but it's breathy, low and seductive as her eyes dart to his lips for a second and then back up to his. They're brown, rich and full of pain, pain she keeps hidden, pain she doesn't mean for him to see, but it's there all the same, along with strength and passion and that fiery quality that only she seems to have. He can't see much of her face, though, can barely see the long lashes framing her brown orbs, has an inkling of the high cheekbones hidden under the mask, so he reaches up his hand, gently touching the material of the offending accessory, and then he moves his fingers back into her hair until he finds the knot that ties the cords of either side of the mask together and pulls, loosening it until it falls from her face and to the floor, neither of them bothering to pick it up.

"Stunning," he reiterates in a whisper, forgetting all about the crown he's supposed to be stealing at this very second, giving no thought to his men waiting back at the camp for news of him, because right now he's wrapped around her, his hands ghosting over her hips until she takes the step necessary to fuse their bodies and has him grasping her firmly, and suddenly all he wants to do is grab her and kiss her senseless.

"I'm waiting," she prompts, and he reluctantly removes one of his hands from her waist, reaches up and takes off the mask, letting it join hers on the floor.

"Well?" he questions.

"Not bad," she quips, but her eyes have darkened and she's smirking again, that delicious, sexy smile he's sure few men have been lucky enough to see. It's that smile that spurs him on, and suddenly his lips are on hers, hard and unyielding, exploring her. She's a little startled at first, but after a second she responds, kissing him back with equal fervor, her hands flying to his chest, fisting in the leather that covers it as she lets her tongue savor him, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip roughly.

Not ten seconds after that bite that pulses a jolt of electricity through him, he's backing her against the wall, his hands frantic as they run over her body, raising her skirts grabbing her leg, pulling it over his waist, the warmth of her skin setting his desire ablaze as he nips at her jaw and then down, down to the delicious expanse of skin exposed by the low neckline of her dress, the swells of her breasts peeking out from their confines, as if asking him to taste them, so he does, bites and licks at them as he pulls roughly at the binds of her garment until finally it's off and on the floor, leaving her bare to him but for a few scraps of fabric that he removes when she forcefully rips his shirt off him and shoves down his breeches, her hand grasping him just as he dips a finger into her and moans at how wet she is already. He draws the finger out, brings it to his lips and sucks on it, humming at the intoxicating taste of her before he sinks to his knees to get a proper sample of her arousal, gathering it with his tongue on her and sucking at her clit, loving the sexy little whimper she gives in return as she digs her fingers into his hair and pulls.

"Mmm, you taste even better than I imagined," he murmurs against her.

"You…" she gasps as he brings his tongue to her clit again, "you've… _oh!._.. you've imagined this?"

"Multiple times, your majesty," he replies, and means every word. He hadn't met her, had barely seen her, the time or two that she happened to be with the Sheriff of Nottingham when he was stealing from him, but he'd lusted after her, after those red lips and those full breasts she often teasingly displayed in her dresses.

His hands are on her rear now, bringing her closer to him, as if he can't get enough of her, and she's moaning and writhing and gasping at the pleasure he's providing her, and it excites him that he can do this to her, that he can turn this mighty queen into a blubbering mess of limbs as she cries out over and over again for more.

She comes on his tongue, and he savors every bit of it, sucks harder at her clit to intensify the sensations, and then she's pulling him up and crashing their mouths together, her lips wild against his as she moans at the taste of herself on his tongue. Suddenly her hand is on him, grabbing his cock and pumping it with skilled fingers, and then she lets go, hooks her arms around his neck and gives a little jump, propelling herself into him so she can wrap her legs around his waist as he pushes her against the wall again, lining himself up and groaning when she lowers herself enough to let him sink into her.

"You feel incredible," he mutters against her breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue, letting it go after a few heady seconds and moving to suckle at the other as he begins to thrust, hard and fast into her, making her breathe out an endless stream of curses between the words _Yes_ and _Right There_  and _ _Do_ n't stop_. He wraps one arm more securely around her, buries his face in her neck and bites and sucks at it while his free hand moves between them to toy with her clit, and then she rolls her hips, clenches her muscles around him, and he's coming, his eyelids fluttering closed at the sensations coursing through him, the rhythm of his hand on her stuttering for a moment before he starts back up again, going faster and harder until the second orgasm hits her, and he's sure that no matter how many beautiful things he gets to see in his life, nothing will ever come close to her face as she comes for him. Her legs reach the floor, unsteady and shaky, but he holds her tight, drops kisses on her neck, licks the sweat off her chest, and once she's come down from her high, she waves her hand and envelops them both in purple smoke. When it clears, they're in her chambers, jumping on her bed, where they get lost in each other over and over again as the party goes on downstairs. He explores every succulent inch of her body, worships her the way he knows a woman like this should be worshipped, and the sounds he draws out of her are the most delicious things he's ever heard. They collapse on a tangle of limbs, and she falls asleep after she halfheartedly shoos him away, but her arm drapes over him as she drifts off, and he burrows closer to her warmth, kisses the tip of her nose in an uncharacteristically tender gesture he won't think about until later, and allows himself a nap before making his way back to his camp.

Regina wakes with the sun the next day, and her bed smells like pine, like forest… forest and sex. The memories come back slowly, and she grins to herself and stretches languidly on the bed as she recalls the events of the previous night, the handsome stranger that hadn't even given her his name, but had made her come like no one else had before.

And when her knights inform her that her emerald crown has been stolen and deliver the note they found in its stead, she can't even be angry, a smirk playing on her lips as she reads the messy scrawl on the crumpled sheet of paper.

_Until the next ball, milady._

_-Robin_


	6. Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Memory Loss AU (OQ Week 2015)

He's in bad shape, uncomfortable because the casts placed on both his arms and one of his legs restrict his movements, the bandages around his torso alerting him to possible internal injuries, but what startles him the most is that he has no idea how he got here.

He can barely remember his name and that of his son's, everything else is just one big blank space in his mind, and he's starting to become desperate at the lack of memories. He's told by his doctors that he's been out for four days, a medically-induced coma to try and get the swelling in his brain to subside. So far, it's going down, though not as fast as they'd expected, so his memory will take a while to return, but it __will__  return. They tell him to be patient, and it's hard, but then he thinks of his son, of the way his eyes had widened in fear the night his mother had died two years ago, and Robin thanks his lucky stars that he's here, that Roland won't have to know what it's like to lose another parent.

His friends visit, introduce themselves to him, bring Roland along so Robin can get some semblance of normalcy as he hugs his boy and breathes in his soapy, sugary scent.

"Is it true you don't remember Uncle John, papa?"

"I don't, I'm sorry," he admits, and Roland's lip trembles then as he looks down.

"Do you remember __me__?" he asks.

"Of course I do! I could never, ever forget __you__. The doctors say it's just a temporary thing, I'm sure I'll remember everyone else very soon."

A knock interrupts him, tentative as the person behind it opens the door slowly and pokes her head inside. A rush of memories hits Robin in that moment, something about her eyes triggers it, the scared look there bringing with it a flash of the last time he'd seen that face.

"You," he breathes as he watches her walk slowly towards him.

"You know who I am?" she asks.

"Not exactly but… I've seen you before… you were frightened."

"That's because a drunk driver was about to hit me when you pushed me out of the way," she tells him with a watery smile. "You saved my life."

"Yeah, you're a hero, papa!" Roland pipes up excitedly.

"Is that how I wound up here?" Robin asks her, and she nods, reaching the bed and planting a hand on the blanket that covers his legs, settling on his good knee.

"I… I wanted to thank you for what you did. I know you're confused and this is probably the last thing you want to be dealing with right now, but you saved me, so thank you."

"Ah… don't mention it," he says as he tries to sit up, the action causing a sharp pain to shoot up his side. He winces, and she instantly goes to him, moving Roland away gently as she checks and rechecks his bandages, adjusting them slightly for his comfort.

"I'm Robin, by the way," he offers, and Roland interrupts her before she can return the introduction.

"She's Regina! And she's really nice, papa! She got me cookies!"

"Did she, now?" he asks as he looks at his son, then back at the woman. She's stunning, all full lips and soft skin, dark eyes that entrance him, framed in lashes long enough to brush against the tops of her cheeks, cheeks that are now tinged in a rosy blush.

"I wanted him to be comfortable, he was worried about you."

"You feel guilty," he concludes, and he hopes she doesn't think he's judging her, because he's not, he's only trying to understand.

"A little," she says shyly, and he breathes out a laugh.

"Don't be."

Regina visits him every single day while he's in the hospital, and the more he finds out about her, the more he wants to know. She tells him she's a veterinarian, treats mostly horses in the equestrian clubs and properties upstate. He learns that she has a perpetual craving for chocolate, that she scrunches up her nose in the most adorable way when she's thinking really hard about something, that she makes the most delicious lasagna he's ever tasted, that she has a passion for crappy reality shows and that she sings country music in the shower (something she admits late one night, with the cutest guilty smile he's ever seen).

His memories only start to come back about two weeks after the incident. It's only a few things, a handful of people that start to make themselves known in his mind again, including John and Will and Belle, all of whom remain by his side and welcome Regina as one of the gang. By then, he's head over heels for her, and there's an endless repertoire of moments that they've had up until now that make him want her that much more. Lingering touches and too-wide smiles that have butterflies erupting in his belly, and one particular event that stands out to him. He'd been complaining about the food at the hospital, and she'd snuck Chinese takeout into his room that night, feeding him eggrolls and noodles and laughing at him when he dripped soy sauce all over his hospital gown. Her smile, the way she'd been so carefree with him, wiped his chin and planted the tiniest of kisses on his temple… it's one of his favorite moments with her, one that he longs to repeat, with maybe a more passionate aftermath following the tender caress of her lips against his skin.

When he's regained the movement of his limbs and most of his memories a month later, he's discharged from the hospital, and he yearns for her company, longs to see her bustling about like she did whenever she dropped by his room or played with Roland.

"Papa, I miss Regina," says the boy miserably after only two days back at home.

"I miss her, too, my boy," he admits.

"Can we go see her?"

"I suppose we could, but I don't know if she'd like that."

"Of course she will, papa! We just have to get her ice cream and flowers!"

"Ice cream and flowers, huh?" he smiles at what he thinks is his son's occurrence.

"Yes! Auntie Belle was talking to her about you and Regina said all you needed was flowers and ice cream and she'd fall in love with you!"

Robin is taken aback by Roland's comment, asks him if he's sure that's what he heard, and the little boy nods enthusiastically, repeats his words and then eagerly tries to get his father to agree to go flower shopping.

An hour later, Robin is at Regina's door, a bouquet of brightly colored lilies and two pints of rocky road ice cream in hand as Roland knocks.

"Regina!" the boy calls, "are you home?!"

"Hold your horses," they hear her yell back as she unlocks the door. When she finally opens it and finds them there, she beams as Roland jumps into her arms with another excited scream of her name.

"How did you find me?" she asks.

"Auntie Belle told us where you live," Roland supplies, and then her eyes set on Robin.

"You look better," she smiles pleasantly, welcoming them into her home and gesturing for them to sit in the living room while she puts the flowers in some water, thanking him for the lovely gesture.

"A little birdie told me you required ice cream and flowers if I was to woo you," he makes his intent clear, hoping she'll return the sentiment, but then she looks at Roland, and back at him, and her eyes widen.

"I'm so sorry. He was so engrossed in picking something from the vending machine, I didn't think he'd hear us. Belle was teasing me and I just—"

"It's perfectly fine, Regina," he placates her, "and besides, it's nice to know what it is I need to do in order to win you over."

She laughs then, a flirty, beautiful thing, and he reaches up a hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, glad that he's finally rid of those annoying casts and can actually touch her without obstructions.

"Yes, well," she continues, "flowers and ice cream really do go a long way with me."

"Enough to warrant a date?" he asks, hopeful.

"Maybe," she's definitely flirting with him, that gorgeous skin of hers flushed as she looks up at him from under her eyelashes and turns, sashaying her way to the kitchen.

Roland's made himself at home on the couch, his little hands grasping the remote and browsing through channels while Robin helps Regina serve some of the ice cream they brought with them, adding chocolate syrup and whipped cream to each bowl.

His back is to her, so when she calls his name and he turns to face her, he doesn't see her intentions until it's too late, the dollop of whipped cream she had in her finger now adorning the tip of his nose.

"Really funny," he grouches, and she laughs airily before leaning forward and kissing the cream off his nose tenderly, not fully realizing what she's doing until it's done, and she grows a little shy then, a little nervous, but Robin won't let her feel bashful about this, so he gets the tiniest bit of whipped cream on her own nose and kisses it off as well, earning himself another of those looks from her that drive him crazy.

They stay close, breathing the same air and smiling at each other like fools, and then Robin decides to push his luck just a little bit, and bends down to taste her lips. They're soft and sweet and pliant under his, his tongue tasting remnants of whipped cream and something that seems to be uniquely __her__  as he licks at them and begs for entrance, which she grants with a tiny whimper as she pulls his body closer.

He parts from their slow, delirious exchange after long, heady seconds, dropping his forehead gently against hers and pecking her lips once more before he speaks.

"I've been wanting to do that since the first moment I saw you," he confesses, "it's all I've thought about for weeks."

"Mm, you lost your memories, it's not like there were that many thoughts running around in your head to keep you occupied," she teases, but then nudges his cheek with her nose and kisses him again, and he hums into her mouth, their lips separating with a wet pop before he looks into her eyes again, his hands looping around her waist.

"So, about that date…" he begins, and there's a naughty glint in her eye as she extricates herself from his arms for a moment and dips her finger into her bowl of ice cream, gathering more whipped cream and sucking it off her finger with a seductive little grin.

"Well," she finally says, "you did save my life."

"Yes, yes I did," he says with a stern nod, but there's a glint of mischief in his eyes, an amused look that she returns as his hands settle on her waist and he seeks out her lips once more.

And he would gladly surrender his memories all over again if it meant he'd arrive to this very moment, if it meant he'd get to hold her in his arms and kiss her senseless for the rest of his days.


	7. Pocketful of Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 3rd OQ Week.  
> Day 4 prompt: Nanny AU

He's at a memorial service for a woman he hasn't seen since his childhood… and he has no idea why.

Actually, he does. Mrs. Lucas had been the one person in his life to always make sure he was well cared for, the one who knew how to soothe his fevers and stop his nightmares and read him just the right bedtime story depending on his mood.

Robin Locksley had been raised by many nannies, but only Mrs. Lucas had made a lasting impression on him. She had been kind where others had been strict, and she had cared for him like a mother for her child, something he was severely lacking since his own parents seemed to be hell-bent on bickering their fortune away instead of focusing on the upbringing of their only son.

When Mrs. Lucas had left, he'd been terrified of life without her, had cried and refused to let her go, like that scene in Mary Poppins where Jane and Michael beg Mary to stay with them always. As always, she had comforted him, told him he was ten years old now, old enough to fend for himself, and that she'd always be with him. And she was.

Throughout his life, Robin had found himself applying a "what would Mrs. Lucas do?" sort of philosophy to his decisions, and he supposes it's because she was the only person he ever truly considered a parent. It's because of her that despite his failed marriage, he still has a wonderful relationship with his son. He's endeavored to make her proud in that regard, vowing to never make the mistakes his own parents did, but rather giving his little boy the joy of a childhood filled with precious family moments, even if that family is now split, thanks to his incompatibilities with his ex wife.

It's not a hostile separation, though. Marian knows how much he loves their son, and they've remained friends despite the divorce. She supports his decision to go back to school and finish his degree (he'd dropped out when they found out Roland was coming, working two jobs to support his growing family), and has even helped him sign up for night classes at the local school, and Robin is thankful for that.

She had actually been the one to inform him of Mrs. Lucas's passing. He'd received a letter to his old address (the house Marian had kept for her and Roland while Robin found home in a new apartment) with an invitation to her wake, organized by Ruby, Mrs. Lucas's granddaughter, who apparently had found her granny's old book full of pictures, names and stories of the children she cared for, and had wanted to do something special to commemorate the life of this kind woman.

There's quite a few people here, all of them about his age, with a few younger than he peppering the back end of the hall of the chapel, talking amongst themselves.

He finds a seat in the second row of pews and readjusts his tie. He hates them, hates feeling the knot dig into his throat, but he remembers how Mrs. Lucas would always say he looked handsome when she dressed him up with one before one of his parents' many snooty events, and he smiles sadly.

Little by little, the crowd trickles in from the hall, taking their seats until the tiny chapel is full of people, all ready to begin the small ceremony.

A beautiful young girl with streaks of red in her raven hair walks in extremely high heels and a black dress walks to the podium, holding a small sheet of paper that she smooths out as soon as she reaches her spot, looking for a moment at the picture of Mrs. Lucas placed at the forefront of the altar. The burial was this morning, with only close friends and family present, as she would've wanted, so there's nothing but mounds of flowers and mementos placed all around the altar, a projector from the back flashing old pictures against the white wall to the left of the podium as a slow melody plays in the background on low, almost imperceptible volume.

The girl then turns on the microphone left for her at the podium and introduces herself.

"Good afternoon, everyone, I'm Ruby. I invited you all here," she starts, "I didn't think there would be such a turnout, but I'm glad to see you all care for Granny as much as I did..."

She continues her speech, but for a moment Robin's attention drifts to the sound of heels making their hurried way down the left side of the chapel, and then his eyes find the source of the noise, rake up slender legs and a tight black skirt, a gray silk shirt and black coat, smooth skin and long dark tresses, mysterious brown eyes and the most beautiful lips he's ever seen.

He feels the breath go out of him, but he says nothing, stays there staring stupidly at this woman that's just found the last available seat in the entire chapel, the one right next to him.

He tries to focus on Ruby Lucas, on the moving words and nostalgic slideshow she's put together for this event, but he finds himself distracted every few minutes, his gaze flicking to his left, drawn to the stunning woman sitting there.

There's a point during the slideshow where the pictures stop being of the children Mrs. Lucas raised and start becoming images of her and her own family, and for some reason it affects them all a lot more than it should, has Robin's eyes watering as he looks at the progression of the life of a woman he considered a mother, yet never really knew much about.

He hears a sniffle to his left, turns to see the woman staring at the slideshow while trying to inconspicuously wipe her tears, but she's not fooling him (or anyone, really), and, well, he suspects they're probably both feeling the exact same way right now.

"Did you know her well?" he murmurs when the speech has ended, addressing the woman directly now.

"She, um, she was my nanny for a year, but we stayed in touch after she left. Granny was the only parent I really ever knew," she says, her voice rich and lovely.

"You called her Granny?"

"We were close, and whenever she took me out to the park everyone would assume she was my grandmother, so one day I called her that by accident, and when I apologized she insisted I never call her Mrs. Lucas again," she smiles as she says it, clearly still amused by the memory.

"Sounds like her," Robin grins.

"It was the same for me," he tells her after a pause, "though she was with us for four years, and after she left I never really heard from her again. I'm surprised she still had my name and picture in that book her granddaughter found."

"I wish she would've stayed longer, but my mother… she didn't like the fact that I preferred Granny's company to hers, or that I was finally getting the childhood she deprived me from."

"Ah, I know that type of parent all too well," he says with a grimace, offering his hand to her. "Robin."

"Regina," she replies as she shakes it, smiling politely at him. Her skin is soft where he touches it, her grip firm and confident. He likes her.

They walk side by side to the reception area, where Ruby is passing out little pamphlets to them all. Robin grabs one, reads the title "Things My Grandmother Used to Say" and then chuckles when he recognizes a few of Mrs. Lucas's most notorious phrases. He hears Regina sniffling again, though, and when he looks up, he finds her staring at her own pamphlet with tears running down her face.

He doesn't know what makes him do it, doesn't really understand the reason for his impulsive move other than she's beautiful and alone and he doesn't want her to be sad. His hand darts out to hold hers, fingers squeezing for a moment and then releasing, though he doesn't let go completely, only loosens his hold as he finds her eyes with his.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't really know __what__  to say, but he gives her a small smile, one that she returns as she tightens her grip on his hand. They walk outside, to the flowerbeds that line the entrance of the chapel, the sun shining brightly over them.

Her hand leaves his when they sit in a nearby bench, and he's startled by how much he misses her touch. It's been a year since his divorce, and he hasn't really been interested in women since things ended with Marian, but now… now he finds himself enraptured by this woman, who is graceful and stunning even in her grief.

They talk for the rest of the afternoon, exchanging stories of their time with Mrs. Lucas, until Regina's tears turn to laughter as he tells her his most embarrassing anecdotes. Conversing with her is light, easy, wonderful, and he finds himself smiling not just at her tales of growing up with a cold hearted mother and a feisty nanny, but at her, at the way her face breaks out into a guffaw as she relays a particularly amusing story, at the adorable scrunch of her nose when she's concentrating on his words, the gentle slope of her nose as she picks a gardenia from a nearby bush and smells it, the soft smile she gives him when he places said flower in her hair.

The passage of time is only marked by the colors of the sunlight, alerting them to the hour when the warm glow turns pink as it's swallowed by the horizon. They're alone now, he realizes, everyone has left, save for Ruby who still stands by the entrance of the chapel, talking to someone on her phone.

"I should probably go," Regina says when she realizes how long they've been here.

"Could I… I'm sorry, I don't mean to be forward, but… could I see you again?" he asks, running a nervous hand through his hair as he awaits her answer. She appraises him then, looking thoughtful for a moment before she smirks and stretches out her hand, gesturing for him to hand over his phone, something he's all too happy to do. She expertly types in her number and saves her info, then hands the device back to him.

"Thank you... you made today a lot less awful for me," she says sincerely.

"As did you for me," he agrees, smiling at her. It seems that's what he does now, smile like a fool when she looks at him, and he can't bring himself to stop.

"So… I'll see you around?" she asks as she tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear, "or are you just going to add my number to your collection and then forget you ever met me?"

He takes her hand in his, brings it to his lips and plants a small kiss there, his eyes never leaving hers as he answers.

"I doubt I'd _ever_  forget meeting you."


	8. Coincidence (Pocketful of Sunshine verse)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Pocketful of Sunshine.  
> Robin runs into Regina in a very unexpected way.

Robin is late.

He's always prided himself on his punctuality, but tonight he is late, and not fashionably so.

It's been over twenty minutes since his very first poli-sci class started, and he's only just entering the building. He'd been at Marian's, watching over his boy while she was caught up at work. She'd apologized profusely for delaying him, but he was already out the door, telling her it was fine and that they'd talk later.

He enters the classroom now, fumbling with his bag, and for a moment he's transported back to his college freshman days, when he'd been young and eager and wanted to make a good impression on his professors (not that he managed to do that, considering he dropped out right before entering his senior year), finding his way around campus with the ridiculously complicated map he'd been given at orientation and stumbling into classrooms full of snooty trust fund babies.

It's different this time, though, because he's greeted not just by the annoyed stares of his fellow classmates when he loudly makes his way to the only available seat left at the very front, but also by the stern greeting from the professor standing in the center of the room.

"Nice of you to join us, mister…?" she trails off, waiting for his answer, and he'd been looking down into his bag for his laptop, so he hadn't seen her face (or she, his), but he'd know that rich, raspy voice anywhere.

Regina.

Sure enough, when he looks up from his bag, his gaze finds her instantly, and he sees the moment it clicks for her, the moment she recognizes him, her eyes widening in surprise as she takes him in.

"Locksley. Apologies, professor, this won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," she warns, recovering quickly, and then she continues explaining the basic concepts they'll be going over this semester.

She's even more beautiful than he remembers. He notices her hair first, the dark tresses trimmed a tad shorter than they'd been when he met her at Mrs. Lucas's memorial service two weeks ago. She'd been wearing a coat then, and they'd been sharing memories of someone dear to them, so checking her out wasn't really something he'd indulged in, but he amends that now, raking his eyes shamelessly over her form, settling back on her face and admiring the soft chocolate brown of her eyes, the plump red lips and long lashes, and she notices him looking, stares back for just a few seconds, but it's enough for him to know she's thinking things that are not appropriate for a classroom. God, he's not going to get through this course if she keeps looking at him like that.

She's a fantastic teacher, passionate about the topics at hand and adept at explaining them in a way that makes them even more interesting than they really ought to be, makes everyone itch to know more. Robin finds himself mesmerized by the way she describes political activity in different countries, and if you were to ask him an hour ago what turned him on, "the analysis of politics in various government systems" is probably the last possible answer, but now, now that Regina is relaying said analysis in that delicious voice of hers while she walks slowly from one end of the room to another in those heels, gesturing with her hands and stealing glances his way, Robin can truly say he's never been more aroused.

Class is over before he knows it, and his classmates file out quickly, scrambling to get out of campus so they can catch the 9pm train. Robin hangs back, though, waiting for the classroom to empty so he can talk to her properly.

She sits at her desk, looking over her notes, black-framed glasses sliding a little down her nose. He hadn't seen those on her at the memorial service, and the curiosity must show on his face as he approaches her, because she answers his unspoken question right away.

"Lost one of my contacts this morning… I don't usually wear these," she explains, and Robin smiles.

"It's a shame. They suit you," he tells her, then adds, "you didn't answer my calls."

"I know," she tells him, looking worried, "I'm sorry. I've been really busy setting up for this semester."

"And here I thought I'd lost my chance."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," she smiles cheekily, holding on to her glasses with thumb and index finger and moving them further down her nose so she can look him up and down over the rim, and __fuck__ , that's sexy.

"So," he says as he sits in front of her, with only the worn wood of her desk separating them, "what are we going to do about this coincidence, professor?" he asks her then, and her eyes darken as she stares at his mouth.

"You say things that way on purpose, don't you?" she asks, sounding somewhat frustrated.

"What way?"

"A dreamy way," she tells him, looking equally annoyed and intrigued.

"I have a dreamy way of saying things?" he's amused at the way she rolls her eyes before she answers.

"Come on, you have to know what that accent does to women, especially when you drop your voice all low and sexy like that."

"You think I'm sexy, then," he quips, hoping he's not overstepping his boundaries here, because he has yet to know if she really wants this.

"Very," she says boldly.

Oh. Okay. So she does.

"That's good to know, then," he tells her sincerely, "because I find you incredibly sexy as well."

"Hmm… perhaps we should do something about that," she flirts.

"I tried, but you didn't answer my call," he winks at her, and she looks contrite for a moment.

"I told you, I was busy with school things."

"I'm only joking, Regina, it's absolutely alright."

"Yeah?"

"Well, no. You've wounded my ego, I'd say you should make it up to me."

She rises from her desk then, walking over to him and perching herself on the arm of the chair he's sitting on, her arms crossed over her chest as she stares at him, the slit of her skirt opening wider over her leg, and his mouth waters at the very thought of tasting all that skin.

"And how do you suppose we do that, Mr. Locksley?" her voice is husky as she stares at his lips, her tongue peeking out to moisten hers briefly, and then Robin is rising a hand to her face, thumb rubbing over her cheek as the rest of his fingers play in her hair, coaxing her down to him until their mouths finally meet and he sees stars.

Her lips are exquisite. Sweet and pliant as they play with his, the tip of his tongue unable to resist temptation and coming out to lick at them gently, until she opens for him and meets the slides of his tongue with some of her own, wet and slow and lovely, making him moan into her mouth.

"You are far too good at that," she murmurs into the kiss, smiling devilishly before she sucks at his upper lip, the action making him grunt as he slips his hands around her waist and shifts her so that she's now sideways on his lap, legs over the arm of the chair, her lovely ass sitting right on the seam of his trousers and moving in slow circles that have him hardening beneath her.

And then she stops.

He's caught off guard, is left with his tongue half out of his open mouth as she rises and takes a few steps back, leaning over the side of her desk and taking deep breaths. Robin rises from his seat then, moves closer to her and gently grabs her wrist, asking if he did something wrong.

"No, you're doing everything right," she chuckles humorlessly, "that's the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm your professor, I shouldn't have... we can't do this, it's unethical."

"Right. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. I want to. God, I want to. But we just, we can't. Not while I'm your professor."

Robin sighs, but nods. Whatever she needs.

"I promise not to be late tomorrow," he tells her with a smile, and she nods her head and bids him a good night. He goes home with a raging erection that he rubs off to the thought of her lips and her breathy moans.

* * *

 

He gets to campus an hour early the next day, and despite their best efforts, he ends up with a hand under her skirt while they shamelessly make out on her desk, his teeth grazing her bottom lip as his fingers play with her underwear, dipping in and out of her teasingly as his other hand wraps around her waist and pulls her closer. She swallows his moans, breathes his name into his open mouth and gyrates her hips into his hand, and he knows she's apprehensive about this, knows she'd rather fight this insane attraction they have to each other while he's enrolled in her class, but god she feels so good that stopping is just not an option right now.

"We can't do this," she blabs against his lips, much as she did the day before, and he groans out a _Yes, we can_ and kisses her again, her response eager and delicious.

"I'm your professor," she tries again, breathless as she tilts her head back to allow him to kiss down her neck.

"Regina, it's not just _this_ , I want more with you, I want to take you out for a proper date. Wine you and dine you and yes, maybe snog you some more," he confesses, his voice husky. "If you being my teacher is truly the only obstacle, I'll file for a transfer with Professor Gold tomorrow," he murmurs as he leaves a path of little licks and sucks against the mouth-watering saltiness of her skin, and the statement has her stopping them altogether, gripping his arm and moving his hand out from under her skirt, though she remains there in his hold as she goes on a tirade.

"Gold? But he's awful! He has no idea how to even explain the fundamental principles of political behavior, or-"

"Would you rather we stop?" he interrupts in a breathy tone, and god please let her say no, because he cannot possibly stop kissing her now, cannot bring himself to sit in this classroom listening to her talk so beautifully about politics and not feel the heat of her skin or the softness of her mouth again for a whole semester.

She looks at him then, face flushed and lips swollen from his kisses, thinks for a few seconds, and then she smiles, shakes her head, and utters two words that have him careening both their bodies against her desk again, landing her ass on the wooden surface as he crashes their lips together for more.

"Don't stop."

They remain submerged in their scandalous exchange for a few more minutes, until he finds it in himself to pause and look at her.

"If he really is as bad as you say, though, I'll probably need a private tutor," he tells her with mock concern, and his voice changes to something lower, huskier, as he elaborates, "Someone to come over to my flat, spend hours alone with me... teach me certain things."

She giggles at that, a light, free, lovely sound that he wants to listen to for days on end, and then she kisses him again, laughing still as she speaks against his lips.

"That can be arranged."


	9. The Nanny Conspiracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another piece written for Day 4 of the 3rd OQ Week (Nanny AU)  
> Premise for this AU: OQ fighting over a babysitter.

"Tell me you're free Saturday night," Robin says as he makes his way into the diner, and Ruby almost drops her phone at the unannounced entranced.

"Holy shit! What is wrong with you?!" she berates him as she presses the device to her chest.

"Sorry, I just really need you Saturday night."

Ruby doesn't pay attention to him, but rather brings her phone back to her ear.

"Sorry, Robin scared the crap out of me just now."

"Of course he did," Regina says on the other end, and Ruby can almost see the way she must be rolling her eyes at the mere mention of Robin's name. "Anyway, as I was saying. Do you think you can come over and stay with Henry Saturday night? I have a date."

Aaaand here we go.

It's not the first time this has happened. For some reason unknown to her, Robin and Regina seem to have it out for scheduling things on the same nights. Every single time one of them needs her to babysit their kid, the other just so happens to need her services as well.

"Um… well…" Ruby says nervously into the phone, staring at Robin as he nervously taps the counter, waiting for her answer.

"No," Regina says, catching on to her predicament, "oh, no. I asked you first!"

"Technically, he did."

"Because he interrupted our call!"

"Regina…" Ruby starts, and comprehension dawns on Robin's face, his expectant smile turning into a scowl.

"Not again. No. Please, Ruby," he starts.

"Robin—"

"Ruby tell him no," Regina orders from the phone.

"I'll pay double," Robin offers, loud enough that Regina can hear him.

"Triple," the woman on the phone offers her, and Ruby's patience starts wearing thin.

"Please, Ruby," he insists "I have a date."

"So does Regina," Ruby explains.

"My condolences to the poor bloke, whoever he is," he mumbles, then proceeds to beg some more, "Ruby please, you can order in, I'll pay."

"I got Henry that new video game you guys were talking about," Regina says from the other end, and Robin can't hear her, but he must know she offered something, because next thing Ruby knows, he's getting out his wallet and taking out a couple of tickets to the local theater.

"That production of Red Riding Hood you wanted to see. These are VIP, they give you a tour backstage after the play. You can have them."

"Ruby, tell that pompous ass that it doesn't matter that his ex-wife owns the theater, he cannot bribe you into babysitting his son over mine!"

"Ruby, tell that crazy woman to stop being so bloody difficult."

"Ruby!"

"Ruby!"

"Enough!" Ruby finally shouts, both at Robin and over the phone at Regina, and they fall silent as she takes a few deep breaths. This always happens, and she's tired of it.

"I'll figure out my schedule, see what works best, and get back to both of you tomorrow. Good night."

"But Ruby!" they both say at the same time.

"I said, good night!" she exclaims with finality, hanging up her phone and jerking her chin forwards to the door of the coffee shop, gesturing for Robin to leave, which he does only after throwing her the most pitiful glance.

Unbelievable. Just unbelievable.

They've been at each other's throats since Robin arrived in town. Regina's the Mayor of their little town of Storybrooke, so it's not like he can do much to mess with her, but for some reason his every little comment rattles her, or at least so has Ruby noticed in the few times she's seen them interact. He's charming, smart, incredibly handsome, and British, and his son is the most adorable little boy you'll ever meet, and Regina may somewhat agree on that last part (she adores Roland, Ruby knows, has seen her playing with him when they run into each other here at the diner, even if she ignores his father completely), but she's resilient in her disdain for Robin, cannot even be in the same room as him for more than ten minutes before starting an argument over whatever silly reason she decides is worth the trouble.

It's ridiculously annoying, especially when most of these stupid fights happen because of her these days. If she has to hear them bicker like an old married couple over who gets her as a sitter for their child one more time, she'll—

Wait.

What if this means… No, could it?

No.

Yes.

Oh, yes.

This… This could work.

Oh this is genius.

The next morning, she calls Regina first.

"Okay, you got me, but there were a lot of promises in that call so we should meet up and figure it out. And you said Henry's on a special meal plan?"

"Yes, he had the stomach flu a few days ago so he's only eating certain things he knows he can handle, I'll draw up a list and bring it to you when I stop by for coffee later today, if that's okay?"

"I'm off today, but meet me for dinner? That same place we went to last week, maybe?"

"The Italian restaurant near my house?"

"Yeap."

"Sure, what time?"

"Seven? You can tell me all about your hot date for Saturday," she throws in for good measure, and Regina laughs.

"There's not much to tell. It was a dare, I had to go on a date with the first man that asked me out while we were at that bar the other day. If I don't go, I'll owe Emma a hundred and fifty bucks, and I'm not about to lose money on something so ridiculous."

"Well, we still have to talk about who he is and what you're gonna wear, so save the date conversation for tonight, okay?"

"Sure," Regina laughs, and they hang up after a quick goodbye.

She calls Robin next, and he's ecstatic to hear from her.

"You'll take Roland on Saturday?"

"I'll take Roland on Saturday," she confirms, "but we're meeting for dinner tonight so you can give me those tickets."

"Alright, where?"

She gives him the information, hangs up, and spends the rest of her free afternoon feeling giddy and liberated. This will teach them to stop being so childish about this whole thing.

* * *

She arrives at the restaurant at seven on the dot, dressed casually in a flowy summer dress, hair down and makeup light, ready for a fun night of girl talk with her friend (and Henry's babysitter for this Saturday, thank god). A waiter ushers her in, leading her to the table outside, one that he tells her Ruby reserved for them -it's odd that she would make a reservation, but Ruby's odd in general, so Regina thinks nothing of it-, she takes a seat and asks for a glass of the house red while she waits for her young friend to show up.

She doesn't.

Instead, Robin Locksley is led to her table.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asks, her chipper mood ruined by his mere presence.

"I could ask you the same thing. I'm here to meet my babysitter."

"You mean my babysitter?"

"So stubborn you can't even admit you lost."

"I didn't lose, Ruby told me she'd take Henry, we're meeting here to discuss the details."

At that, he gives her a look of confusion, frowning as he explains that Ruby called and told him the exact same thing about Roland. And suddenly it all makes sense. The dinner invite, the reserved table… that bitch planned this entire thing.

"I believe we've been pranked," Regina says defeatedly, running a hand through her hair and taking another sip of her wine.

"Scusi, Ms. Mills," someone calls, and Regina turns her head to find Marco, the chef and owner of the restaurant, addressing her.

"Marco, how are you?"

"Very well, thank you," he says, the words marked by his thick Italian accent, "I wanted to let you know that your dinner is courtesy of signorina Ruby, tonight."

"Ruby paid for dinner already?" Regina asks in confusion.

"Why, yes. She said 'tis a first date gift for you."

"First date?!" Robin balks where he still stands by her table, and Regina shoots him a glare.

She doesn't move, puts her best efforts into looking unfazed and uninterested even when inside she's screaming, ready to run the hell out of here, but she's not about to give Robin Locksley the satisfaction of watching her surrender first.

To her surprise, that insufferable man sits his ridiculous (and, she has to admit, quite delectable) British behind in the chair opposite her, asking Marco to go ahead and bring their dinner. Her glare only intensifies, which for some inexplicable reason, has him smirking at her, and gods be damned, that smirk is doing things to her.

"Dinner's already paid for, we might as well eat it, right?" he tells her, signaling a nearby waiter to bring along another glass and a bottle of the red she's drinking. Regina stares at him over the rim of her glass, her eyebrow rising when his glass has been brought and his wine poured and he raises it to toast with hers.

"Oh come on, my company cannot be that dire," he jokes.

"You'd be surprised."

"You don't look like a mayor," he changes the subject abruptly, raking his eyes over her form. She supposes he's right, she's pretty casual today, but then she wasn't expecting a date. Not that this is a date. Because it's not. Is it?

Her anxiety over what this even is must be showing in her body language somehow, because he mistakes it for anger and hurries to reassure her.

"I didn't mean it as an insult, you look beautiful. You always do."

"I think that's the first time you've ever paid me a sincere compliment."

"You're a stunning woman, Regina, I'm pretty sure you know that. It's your personality that sometimes gets in the way."

She doesn't know why, but his barb stings a little, so she summons her anger, the annoyance this man causes her, because she'd rather treat him like garbage and look like a bitch than let his words get to her.

"I'm the mayor of this town, and a full time mother, and I've managed both with quite a bit of success, in case you haven't noticed. My son loves me, and the town is thriving. I'm driven and I strive to take care of the things that are important to me. My personality is just fine."

"I never questioned your parenting, or your abilities as a mayor. I actually think you're quite wonderful at both of those roles. I only meant that you seem to reject any approach that is meant to get to know you. The real you."

"This is the real me," she tells him, confused now.

"Exactly, this vision in a summer dress, with hair tumbling in the wind as she enjoys a glass of wine, this version of you is the real deal, and you never let anyone see it."

"What makes you think you know me so well?"

"Do you remember why we even started fighting?"

"Of course I do..." but she says nothing else, because no, she really doesn't remember.

"Because I tried to flirt with you."

What?

"What?"

"Oh yes. We were both at the bar, we hadn't really talked before, so I suppose it was a bit forward of me to attempt to woo you, but you looked so damn irresistible I just had to try."

"I don't remember this," she tells him, curious to hear the rest of the story. He laughs, looks down at his wine and then back up at her face.

"I bought you a drink and asked you who had made you end up drinking alone at The Rabbit Hole of all places, told you such a beautiful woman should never have cause to be so sour."

That's right, she remembers now.

"And I told you my life was none of your business and bolted," she finishes for him.

"That's right."

Wow. Is that really why things have been so rocky between them? Regina can't quite see how it could've gotten this bad, but she supposes she owes him an apology for her behavior that night, and for all the horrible things she's said to him since then.

"I'm sorry for being a bitch," she tells him, smiling timidly at him, and that smirk that she's now hooked on comes back out to entice her further.

"I'm sorry for scaring you off," he says in reply, "it would have been a great night if I hadn't."

"Is that so?" she asks, not realizing how cheeky it sounds until after she's said it, and she's mortified, because what if he's just being nice? What if he's not actually flirting right now?

"Definitely," he tells her, his blue eyes lazily raking over her, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

Oh, he is most certainly flirting.

* * *

 She wonders how it all came to this. How it went from bickering over who gets to keep Ruby as their babysitter for the weekend to having dinner and holding hands as he walks her to her house while they laugh and talk and enjoy the effects of the wine they drank together.

She has no idea what made the balance shift, what tipped the scales in such a bizarre way that now she can't get enough of the way his thumb rubs over her hand as he holds it, when not even a day ago she couldn't bear the mere sight of him.

"I had a lovely time tonight, Regina," he says when they reach her door, his voice low and raspy.

"So did I," she agrees, "surprisingly."

"I guess Ruby had the right idea," Robin flirts.

"I won't require her services on Saturday. Not anymore," she tells him boldly, adding a wink for good measure, and Robin grins in response, tells her he won't, either. And then he's stepping closer to her and laying a tentative hand on her waist, the warmth of it easily felt even over the fabric of her dress.

"Are you going to kiss me now?" she asks with mocking roll of her eyes, but she knows the smile she's giving him betrays her desires all too easily.

"I might just try to," he says, the hand not on her waist now rising to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering by her cheek and then traveling slowly over her neck, her shoulder, down the length of her arm until their hands are intertwined again.

"Well, Mr. Locksley," she confirms, moving ever closer and tilting her head up just so, her mouth hovering over his, the tip of her tongue coming out to ghost over his upper lip, "after tonight, I might just let you."

And she does. Oh how she does.


	10. Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OQ are cop partners

She's beautiful.

She's in uniform, with no makeup and her hair twisted into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and she's beautiful.

She's in jeans and a T-shirt, fresh-faced and rosy-cheeked, long tresses weaving together in a braid when they go out for coffee and a few rounds of target practice on their day off, and she's beautiful.

"Go out on a date with me," he pleads one day while they're on patrol.

"No."

"Why not?"

"We're partners, it would screw up our work relationship, and I happen to like working with you, Robin."

"Please, Regina, one date."

"No."

She laughs at his insistence for the next few months, always denying him, but the smirk on her face seems a permanent fixture now whenever she gives him that dreadful answer, so it becomes a game, one that he loves to play, because he knows that that smirk is one she reserves only for him. She grins, says no when he asks her again, and she's beautiful.

But she's also stubborn, refuses to let him protect her (and he knows, he knows that she's capable, that he's being stubborn and more insistent on this than would be normal between partners, but dammit, he wants her safe), so when her bulletproof vest is damaged and she has to go without it while they're on patrol, he insists she wear his, begs with puppy dog eyes and pretends that this is in no way related to his feelings for her, that his arm is still sore from the run-in they had with some street thugs two days ago and holding his gun while wearing the vest is too uncomfortable, that she may as well use it while she doesn't have her own with her.

It's a quiet day, their patrol easy and uneventful as usual, and then they get the call, their radio beeping and the voice of Ruby at command telling them there's a robbery going on at a bank not ten miles away from their assigned area. They respond right away, Robin pressing the button to power on the cherry as they speed in the direction of the bank, and when they arrive, everything goes wrong.

He finds himself staring at a very determined young man pointing a gun at Regina, who's struggling against his grip around her neck. Normally, she'd be able to handle it, but the guy is so much taller than her, stronger, and she's hindered by the lack of air in her lungs thanks to his firm choke hold on her throat, so all she can do is struggle, try to wiggle her way out, but to no avail.

Robin stands there, staring, trying to figure out a plan, trying to appease the guy, and just as he's telling him that more patrols are coming, that he's got no way out, Regina finally manages to break free, taking advantage of a split second where the criminal's hold loosens enough for her to make her move, flattening him on the floor with a couple maneuvers Robin has seen her practice during training, and then she's running for cover, but the man starts to come to before she can reach a safe position, and he's aiming his gun at her, his face screwed up in anger.

Robin doesn't think, doesn't even stop to assess his actions, like he's been taught to do, he just goes for it, jumps right in front of the man a second before he shoots, catching the bullet intended for Regina, who watches in horror as everything unfolds.

The guy tries to shoot again, but she's faster this time, and Robin can see through blurry eyes that she's shot the man in the leg, kicked away his gun and dragged him to the nearby stairs, handcuffing him to the metal railing while they wait for backup.

Her hands are suddenly there, trembling and hovering over his face, her eyes wet and worried, her hair wild after coming undone from its customary bun, thanks to the rough treatment of the man now apprehended and wailing in pain by the stairs.

"Are you alright?" he asks her, adrenaline kicking in, keeping him awake when only moments before he'd been about to pass out from the pain in his side where he was hit. His hand rises to cup her cheek, trying to get her to answer, and she huffs out a watery laugh as she rips open his shirt and inspects the wound.

"Am I alright... You got yourself shot, Robin!" she berates, a fond smile on her face.

"I'll live," he tells her. He's able to assess the damage for himself, knows that it's bad and will need surgery, but he likes that she's checking, likes feeling her fingers ghosting over his skin.

"You're insane, you know that?" she grouses, still checking the wound while the people inside the bank make their hurried way out to the street when they hear sirens in the distance.

"Hey now, is that the proper way to talk to the man who just saved your life?" he quips, and she rolls her eyes.

"I'm wearing a vest, I would've been fine. You didn't have to do that."

She looks away from his face then, trying to hide the fear, but he sees it anyway, because he knows her, and then he's grabbing her hand and keeping it against his chest.

"I'd do it again," he tells her without a hint of apprehension.

Regina sighs then, looks at her hand clasped in both of his, and then the paramedics are there, shooing her away while they check him over, and Robin feels himself slipping again, darkness calling to him as he closes his eyes.

"Tell you what," she murmurs in his ear, her shaky voice bringing him back from the precipice, "you hold on for me, and when you get better, we'll have drinks."

"Like a date?" he asks, the morphine finally kicking in and making him feel tingly as he slips into unconsciousness. He never does get to hear her answer. 

* * *

 

Robin wakes in a hospital, the stale smell of it overpowering his senses, rousing him despite his desire to just keep sleeping until he can wake up in a more pleasant location. One eye opens slowly, adjusting to the dim light of the room, and then the other follows, and he blinks several times before he takes in his surroundings. Boston Memorial, it looks like. He's been here before, a long time ago, when his wife was ripped from him by the same kind of crime he and Regina prevented earlier today.

And speaking of Regina, there she is on the chair by the window, fast asleep and still in her rumpled uniform and messy hair, like she hasn't taken a single break since he was brought here. It moves him, that she's stuck around for him, but she really should be getting some proper rest.

"Regina," he calls out to her, and his voice sounds raspier than he thought it would. He tries to raise his arm, but it's too heavy, his body still weighed down by the anesthetics and sedatives and whatever meds they've been pumping him with to keep the pain at bay. Thankfully it only takes him two more whispered shouts of her name to wake her, and she flies to his bed, asking him if he's alright, if anything hurts.

"I'm fine," he assures her, "just wanted to tell you to go home. You need to get some sleep, and that chair cannot be comfortable."

"I've had worse," she tells him, a little of her humor returning now that she's sure he's okay, and her hand finds its way into his, a gesture that surprises him, but pleasantly so.

"So… I'm alive and on the way to recovery. Looks like you owe me a drink, Officer Mills."

"I could've lost you today," she says instead of answering his little jibe, speaking more to herself than to him, seemingly distracted by the prospect of what could've happened to him.

"You didn't."

"But I could've… and all because you wanted to save me."

"It's what partners do," he shrugs, regretting the movement instantly and wincing in pain. His side is covered by a large patch of gauze and surgical tape, and he's sure there are stitches, lots of them, pulling at his skin when he moves.

Robin sighs then, takes her hand and pulls her onto the bed, slowly inching to the side so she can fit in it with him. Sharing a bed is not a thing partners do, but they're past that now, or at least that's what he's gathering from the way she seems more open to his affections.

Regina cuddles herself against him, settling gingerly on the side of him that isn't bandaged, and burying her face in his neck as she whispers, "I do like you, you know."

He smirks at that, turns his head to place a kiss on her brow, and yes, he knew that already.

"You still owe me that drink," he says then, and to his surprise, she smiles, meets his lips softly with hers before she answers.

"Yes, I suppose I do."


	12. Windmills of Your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Crown Affair AU

He stole that painting from the MET.

She knows he did. _He_  knows she knows he did.

And yet here they are, draped in the heavy, rich fabrics of designer clothes as they glide across the dance floor, his arm firm around her waist, hand splayed over the curve of her backside, and no matter how hard she tries to focus on the task at hand, on this clever and seductive mind game they're playing on each other to see who caves first, the world simply continues to melt away as the sensual tones of the salsa song they're dancing to overpower her senses, transport her to a place where the only thing that matters is that he's touching her, that his breath is washing over her cheek, that he's murmuring naughty, lovely things in her ear, that he's showing her how much he wants her.

"You are exquisite," he tells her, the rhythm of his hips matching hers when she turns and grinds herself against him, her back pressed flush against his chest, his hands caressing her thighs when she leans back into him as they move.

Regina wasn't counting on this when she started investigating that stolen Monet last month, was not expecting that her tactic to seduce billionaire Robin Locksley into a trap would end with her being trapped instead, but it's happened, she is now a willing prisoner of those dimples and that accent and the enrapturing beauty of his soul, or at least what he's shown her of it during their late night visits, when they sit with glasses of Merlot by the fire in his lavish home and exchange stories of their childhoods, laughing lightly while their hands play and weave fingers with one another.

The sexual tension has been growing along with their emotional intimacy, charging the atmosphere of every room they find themselves in, penetrating her every thought, befuddling her mind, and she's a _detective_ , for crying out loud, the lead investigator on a high profile case, she cannot afford to fall prey to his charms, she has to finish this, has to get him to cave, to tell her where the painting is so she can return it to the museum and bust him for his multi-million dollar crime.

"Where is it?" she all but exhales the question into the scant space between them, and god, he smells so good, like sandalwood and salt and something altogether Robin, altogether wonderful. The urge to kiss him grows stronger with every passing second, her resolve to not get attached practically flying out the window.

"What's your favorite dessert?" he fires back just as his lips drop to her neck, making her shiver and smile at his lame -but successful- attempts at changing the subject. Every time she asks, he distracts her, rakes his gaze over her form, compliments her, tells her how beautiful she is, gives her presents in the form of flowers, or rare books he knows she'll like, or passes to elegant parties like this one, or private tours of the many rooms in his mansion where he keeps his art collection (the part of it that was legally obtained, anyway), and they serve as enough of a diversion that she gets too caught up in him, in peeling the layers of this complicated and unbelievably attractive man, instead of doing her job and getting that stolen painting back.

"Apple pie," she answers, tacking on another "Where is it?"

"Hmm, unusual choice, I'd have pegged you for a chocolate and strawberries type of woman. Something simple, provocative, the kind of dessert you'd have on a romantic evening."

"Not every girl is impressed with chocolate and strawberries," she replies with a smirk, "now, where is it?"

"Favorite movie?"

"The Wizard of Oz. Where is it?" she asks, and yet again he deflects, all the while moving them around the floor, his face fixed in a sexy smirk that has her rubbing her thighs together whenever she has the chance.

"Favorite painting at the MET?" he asks, and she raises an eyebrow at him, surprised that he's skirting so close to the subject.

"Tête Raphaëlesque éclatée," she recites in perfect French, for once glad for all those lessons her overbearing mother forced her to attend when she was younger. She spins away from him in a surprising display of coordination (but then she realizes it's him, his burning touch as he guides her, that makes her move with such grace), their hands remain connected as he pulls her back, smacking her body against his, and for a moment they just look at each other, her entire soul lost in the blue of his eyes for what feels like the millionth time today.

"Dali? Really?" he asks, his voice low, barely audible over the noise in the room.

"Predictable?"

"Impressive," he corrects as the sexy salsa music dies into a low, sultry tune that has them moving closer, swaying gently, and Regina bites her lip in a failed attempt to tramp down the grin breaking out of her when he looks at her with nothing but awe. And then it's happening, her eyes closing as he runs the tip of his nose down the length of hers, his lips hovering over her own, a reverent whisper of her name, Regina, marking the moment right before he kisses her, and when he does, when he _finally_ does, she knows she's in trouble.

His mouth is soft against hers, not the frenzied, sexually charged entanglement she'd expected. He's tentative at first, sampling her bottom lip, the tip of his tongue taking in the taste of her, and it's that feeling, that velvety wet sensation of his tongue in her mouth when she grants him access, that makes her moan against him, and his hands suddenly grasp her tighter, spurred on by the sound, the heat and passion of their exchange escalating, and when he asks her to come back to his place with him, she whimpers an affirmative, her sanity at last fully lost to her.

The sex is messy, sweaty and desperate as they claw and bite in order to quench their thirst for each other. His mouth on her clit is heaven, and she screams his name until her voice is hoarse, coming twice on his tongue right there in the middle of his staircase before he finally pushes his way inside her, her legs opening to accommodate him and her mouth seeking his as the slippery skin of her back digs into the edges of the marble steps.

It's illicit, what she's doing, downright immoral and unbelievably stupid, and she should stop, but it feels too good, his hard length moving at a hurried, delicious pace that has stars erupting behind her closed eyelids as she rasps out a _More!_  that makes him grunt and go faster.

"You're amazing," he gasps hotly against her neck, raising his head to watch her as she licks her lips, then ducking back down to suck at a nipple and then another, teeth sinking into the pert peaks gently, just enough to make her writhe.

"Fuck! Robin, you- oh, _god!_ \- that feels..." she trails off when his hand drifts down and finds her clit, a tight moan leaving her instead of words when he rubs and rubs.

He kisses her again, mouths colliding heatedly, his tongue licking at hers, and the third orgasm hits her, a building crescendo of sensation that shatters her on a particularly hard thrust of his cock against that sweet spot inside her. He comes right after, a loud _Oh, fuck!_ leaving his lips as he shakes all over, emptying himself inside the condom he'd been self-aware enough to remember (lord knows _she_  hadn't) before they started this.

They're too spent to move, but her back aches from being fucked against the stairs, so at her request, they drag themselves up off the steps, find their way to his bedroom and collapse on top of the soft covers, bodies naked and cooling after all the exertion.

Surprisingly, Robin turns to her, gathering her in his arms and burying his face in her neck, kissing the crook and muttering something she can't quite hear.

"Hmm?" she asks, too tired to utter a proper sentence.

"I'll give it back," he murmurs then, pulling back to look at her, "the painting. If it's really what you want, I'll give it back."

She's stunned by his words, can't utter anything beyond a simple _Why?_

"I found something I want more," he tells her, cradling her face in his hand and dropping a chaste kiss against her lips.

"Just like that?" she asks, turning on her side and bending an arm against the mattress so she can rest her head on her hand.

"Just like that," he says simply, "Regina, I don't care about the painting."

"What _do_  you care about?" she looks down then, at his hand as it finds her free one and laces their fingers together.

"You. I care about you."

"We've only known each other for a month, Robin."

"And already you know me better than anyone else ever has. You figured me out almost the second you met me. You knew I had that painting right from the start, you knew that what you were getting into could be dangerous, and still you did it. You're stunning, Regina, in every way, and I… I think I'm falling madly in love with you."

"Why did you do it?" she veers away from his compliments, because she can't deal with these declarations, not right now. Robin shrugs at her question, his eyes focusing on her hand as he plays with it, slowly twining and untwining their fingers, like he always does when they sit by the fireplace in his study to get to know each other better over wine and good conversation.

"I was bored," he admits, smirking and giving her a cheeky wink as he adds, "and I really liked that Monet."

She laughs with him at his silly explanation, and lets the sweet touch of his lips to her forehead relax her, her body sinking back into the bed, sighing contentedly when he presses his chest to her back and his arms wrap around her, his voice rasping a low _Sweet dreams, love _,__  against her shoulder.

She's asleep in seconds.

* * *

 

Days pass and Regina and Robin do nothing but drink, eat, and ravish each other in every possible surface of his home, but it's during their late night talks, when they're covered in sweat and basking in their post-coital bliss, that they begin to devise a plan. She's risking everything by aiding him, she knows that, because she should be reporting this, not helping him hash out a way to return the stolen painting without anyone ever finding out it was him. But she wants this, she wants him, because he makes her happy, dammit, and she'd be stupid to deny herself that happiness, especially after spending years mourning her dead fiance, after sinking into the monotony of a life alone and unloved. No, she deserves this second chance, and she's going to take it.

 _ _Besides__ , she tells herself, __if he returns it intact, then there's really no harm done, right?__

Unfortunately, the FBI doesn't seem to think so, and they find out Robin's plan when they get an anonymous tip that the MET thief will strike again. She has no time to warn him, is given the news and ordered to join her colleagues in the manhunt literally five minutes before they head out, and she has no choice but to follow, her heart pounding with dread as she hopes, prays, that she can help him get away somehow.

Officers storm the museum at the exact time Robin had told her he'd be there returning the painting, and a million scenarios accost Regina as she goes in, images of him being dragged away in handcuffs, or worse, shot, assault her, but she's met with a new scene altogether, because Robin isn't there, yet the stolen Monet is back in its display case, no damage made to it whatsoever.

Captain Jones and some fellow officers all search the building for the infamous thief whose name they don't yet know, but find no trace of him, and Regina allows herself a moment to breathe while her colleagues check the museum's many relics to make sure everything's alright.

When her loud comrade Leroy comes in, gruffly yelling that another painting's been stolen, she frowns, confused, but then they report that the missing piece is none other than Dali's _Exploding Raphaelesque Head_ , and she smiles to herself, shaking her head because of course, Robin planned all this, he'd been the anonymous tipper. She should've known.

Regina turns in her badge and weapon then, quits on the spot (the Monet has been returned, she tells the captain, her work here is done) and drives home to pack.

She meets him by the entrance of a private hangar in JFK the following afternoon, his luxurious jet waiting for them. His associate John has fed the police false information of the infamous thief's whereabouts so that their escape can go unnoticed, helped transfer all his money to hidden accounts under untraceable names, and has even procured fake passports and documentation for him and Regina, in case the ruse falls through and the authorities find out who was really behind the robberies. Everything is taken care of, and nothing is left to do but go.

He looks, well, _yummy_ , in his charcoal slacks and white shirt, long sleeves rolled up and top button undone. His face is relaxed, devoid of worries as he presents her with a glass of champagne and a leather painting portfolio case upon her arrival, and Regina can't help it, she smiles. An FBI agent, falling head over heels for a notorious white collar criminal… who would've thought?

"You know, a framed print would've been fine, too," she says, gesturing to the case still tucked under his arm, and he smirks back at her, dimples on full display as he tells her that he knows, that he's purchased one of those as well, as decoration, but that he wanted her to have the original to peruse whenever she so desired.

"You told me that you like it because it makes you feel free," he says, and yes, she'd told him that, a few nights ago when they'd been lying in bed and he'd asked what she loved about the piece. She'd relayed the story of how her controlling mother had never allowed her to be her own person, how running across that painting in an old art history book had made her feel like she could breathe again, the shapes and colors unraveling the cage of manipulation and forbidden enjoyment she'd been raised in and inspiring her to escape her mother's clutches.

"Yes, and it does, but-" she tries, but stops short when Robin speaks.

"That's what I want for you, Regina, I want you to be free."

It goes against her better judgment, challenging everything she's been trained to uphold and protect, but this man, this incredible, insane man has gone and made it so that they can go see the world together, has stolen a work of art worth millions of dollars simply because it means something to her, and as ridiculous and wrong as it sounds, Regina loves it, loves that he's willing to go to such lengths for her.

She kisses him hard, smiles big and wide when her bags (and her painting) are carried off by his staff to be stored safely on the plane, and with one last kiss before they board, she happily embarks with this handsome outlaw into a life of adventure.


	13. In Times of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcos AU. Set in Colombia, New Year's Eve 1992, at the peak of the DEA's war against Pablo Escobar and his cartel.  
> This was my Secret Santa contribution a few years ago. Rated R.

He smells like forest.

She can't really think beyond that simple sentence, too distracted by the way he grunts her name when her teeth sink into his lower lip.

She knows she should stop, but they're a little drunk, and it's New Year's Eve, and he feels unbelievably good all pressed up against her like this, the woodsy, pine scent of his cologne mixing with his sweat and hers, mouths messy and fast and hard on each other, tongues tangling in a dance so intense, it's like they're battling now instead of sampling.

When the British government had found out that the Medellin Cartel was starting to smuggle drugs past their borders, they'd immediately joined forces with the United States, sending their best intelligence and field agents to Colombia to help the DEA with their mission, to stop Pablo Escobar at whatever cost. Regina had been against it, didn't want to have to deal with even more foolish young boys thinking their basic training would get them through this. They have no idea what it's like to survive in the streets of a country run by narcos, especially when you're part of the force that's trying to bring those narcos down, and she'd be damned if she was going to let these little criquet-playing fools destroy all her hard work.

She'd told her boss as much, and Mal, being the no-bullshit supervisor she is, had responded by rolling her eyes and pairing Regina up with the stubborn, idiotic, noble, sexy as hell British agent who is now shoving a hand inside her jeans.

She'd hated the idea, hated Robin for being part of the whole thing, treated him horribly the first couple of weeks, and yet he'd stayed, been a kind and loyal friend, someone she'd developed a close bond with, something that later became __more__  on both their parts, intense feelings pulling them together, but neither of them acted on them, knowing it could mess up their work dynamic. And they worked well together, he heeded her every command, let her lead their scouting operations and every other negotiation or information exchange they had to do, even had her back in moments where she would've most certainly wound up dead at the hands of Escobar's men, had it not been for Robin's annoying habit of following her home after work to make sure she got in okay.

That chivalrous streak is part of what's landed them here in the first place.

She'd been kidnapped by a horde of lackeys from the cartel, taken to some unknown location in the middle of the jungle, where the sun itself seems to be on Escobar's side, glowing so bright and hot she felt she'd perish under it, deprived of water as she was.

It had been three days of torture, a man named Greg, her jailer, hitting her with electrical charges every few minutes, simply because he could. Nothing was ever asked of her, no information extracted, they didn't need to, they just wanted her to suffer as much as possible before they killed her, a retaliation for the many plans she had screwed up for the cartel.

She'd been weak, barely breathing, but she remembers Greg's smug smile, the touch of his fingers to her arm, the lascivious threats he'd murmured when he thought she was too frail to hear them.

And then all of a sudden, Greg was bleeding, body writhing on the floor in pain. She hadn't even heard the gunshot, too feeble to register such things, but then Robin's face had appeared in her line of vision, worried gaze flitting over her, soothing voice promising it was over, he was there, he had her. Regina doesn't remember ever feeling so relieved.

She'd spent a full week in the hospital, with frequent visits from her rescuer, always accompanied with flowers and sweet, gentle kisses to her forehead, something she normally wouldn't allow from him (or anyone for that matter), but in that moment, his affections had been a welcome balm to her battered spirit, a way for both of them to assert themselves that this was real, that she was safe.

She'd never questioned her extraction, thought it had all been a proper rescue mission, a plan carefully devised with guaranteed security, but when Mal had stopped by her apartment a few days after she'd been discharged, Regina had found out that this was not the case. In a quiet voice, her boss had told her of how Robin defied orders to go and find her, had soiled his spotless record and gone rogue for three days while he searched for her, using every available resource he had, including contacts he made by infiltrating the upper ranks of Escobar's empire, pretending to be a prospective coke distributor wanting a cut from the new British brand of the business. She should've been thankful, maybe even impressed that he'd gone to such lengths for her.

Instead, she'd been angry.

She'd sought him out as soon as she was able, and slapped him without hesitation when they met on the street near his hotel.

"How _dare_  you put everything in danger like that?!" she'd yelled as he rubbed his sore cheek.

"And here I thought you'd come to thank me for saving your life," he'd snapped in response.

"Do you realize what could've happened if they caught you?!" she'd shouted, her eyes filling with tears, because dammit he could've cost them the entire war against the cartel, and worse, he could've _died_.

Robin had exhaled, his voice going low, almost impossible to hear as he mumbled the simple reasoning behind his decision:

"I wasn't going to let them take you from me."

And that was all it took.

Regina had pounced, bruising kisses and delicious bites that now has them both groaning their pleasure, wrapping closer around each other and dry-humping against a storefront in this dingy street on New Year's Eve.

"Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again." she punctuates each word with a hungry kiss, and the chants of the few drunken Colombians on the street waiting for the new year fade off into the background, a soundtrack of sorts to their messy exchange.

"Don't get kidnapped again," he counters, sucking at what he can reach of her breasts, the swells peeking from the deep V of her white shirt.

Her lips are swollen and wet after the many frenzied passes of his tongue along them, her hair a mess where he'd buried his hand in and pulled at it as he kissed her, and his other hand is still in her jeans, still teasing her over the fabric of her underwear.

"Deal," she agrees with a raspy laugh, pressing harder against the wall behind her and bringing him closer, the heat of his body sheltering her from the cold night air.

His fingers are still rubbing at her, sending little jolts of pleasure slithering through her as he moves as best he can within the constraint of the denim that hugs her hips. She brings her hand down then, unbuttons her pants so that he has better access, and she is so, so wet, so ready for him to just take her right here in this alley, propriety be damned.

His index finger shifts her panties aside and thrusts into her just as he moves his other hand from her hair to the hem of her shirt, lifting it up until it's bunched under her arms, then pulls down the cups of her bra, his mouth getting lost in the newly revealed skin, moving to suck one nipple as he gives the other a few squeezes between thumb and forefinger, switches his attentions so that her breasts are both wet from his tongue before he moves back up, his breath heavy against her jaw as he whispers "you're so beautiful."

The words almost get lost in the chilly Bogota wind, but she hears him, feels her body flush with heat at the reverent way he says them, and __god__  he's so hard, she can feel him straining against the fabric of his trousers when he rolls his hips against her, and she moans his name, loving the almost savage way in which he abandons her neck and plunges his tongue into her mouth at the sound.

When they stop for air, his hand leaves her, both thumbs hooking on the waistline of her jeans and pulling down. She does the same to him, then fists her hands on his shirt and tugs, buttons raining on the pavement, and it's dark, she can't see much, but she can _feel_ him hard and ready against her, can __taste__  his arousal on her tongue when he kisses her again, can __hear__  his strangled moans when her hand grabs his cock and begins to pump.

He's turning her around after a few short minutes, apologizes when she hisses at the cold of the wall when her bare breasts press against it, nipples tightening even more. His hand moves over her ass, caressing, admiring.

"I've wanted you for so long," he tells her, leaning closer so he can whisper it in her ear, lands a tender kiss on the back of her neck. "From the moment I met you, I knew I was done for. You're so stunning, Regina, in every way."

Only he can do that. Only he can make her feel cherished and cared for while he's about to fuck her from behind in a dark street corner, and the contrast between his loving kisses and the raw quality of what they're about to do has her head spinning pleasantly, her clit longing to be touched again.

"Robin," she moans, pushing her rear against his hips, feeling him stiff and hot as he rubs his erection against her in slow, wet passes. And suddenly he's gone, cool air hitting her back where it's bare, making her shiver, but then she feels his hands on the backs of her thighs, spreading her open just a little bit more, pulling down her underwear and then unceremoniously giving her a flat, long lick from her clit to her entrance, the pleasure of it slamming her against the wall with a whoosh of air that she exhales in the form of his name.

"God!" she shouts, wedging a hand between her mouth and the wall to stifle the sound, and Robin peels back slightly, grins against her thigh.

"No," he tells her, "just me." Smug bastard.

Smug, heroic, ridiculously romantic bastard.

His tongue is back, one and then two of his fingers joining it, pumping in and out and in and _up_ , finding a delicious rhythm against that spot inside her that has her seeing stars and crying out for more.

"Please," she says, bending over a little lower, her sex bare and glistening as she hangs on to the smooth surface before her, "I want you inside me."

"Come for me first, beautiful," he murmurs, giving her left cheek a gentle bite before he moves closer and sucks at her clit in earnest from where he kneels below her, lapping at her faster and faster the louder she gets, and then she's loudly moaning out her orgasm, hands clawing at the wall in front of her, hips rolling against his tongue as he prolongs the feeling, brings her down slowly enough for her to enjoy every last bit of the mind blowing peak she's just reached.

While she catches her breath, he pulls out a condom from his wallet and slips it on, and Regina turns her head to watch, still leaning against that wall, licks her lips as he pumps his cock up and down lazily, his eyes roaming her semi-naked figure.

When he finally pushes his way inside her, nice and slow from behind, there are only a few minutes left til midnight, and the leisurely pace works for her benefit (is probably why he chose it in the first place, she realizes), helps build up her arousal once again, until she's once again slick between her thighs, panting against the hand she still has pressed against the wall to stifle her screaming. His cock is perfectly thick, and she tightens around him, pushes back with every single one of his thrusts, her free hand worming its way down her body until she reaches her clit, bringing herself closer and closer to the edge as he pounds into her, still slow, but firm, one hand on her lower back, the other around her waist.

"You feel amazing," she whispers into the night, and he leans into her once more, presses his chest flush against her back and holds her to him, with one arm wrapped around her stomach as he rams his cock inside her, picking up speed when his arousal heightens, his other hand blindly fondling her breasts as he peppers messy, wet kisses in whatever part of her he can reach.

"So do you," he replies in a husky voice, accentuating his words with a hard rap of his hips against hers, hitting her G-spot in the most exquisite of ways, pleasure blooming from the action and wrapping her in waves of heat and sensation that she cannot get enough of.

"Oh, _fuck!_ " she exclaims, pushing back against him harder, and she's so close, so damn close.

And then he stops.

A frustrated whine leaves her even as she tries to catch her breath, turning to him and scowling.

"I need to see your face," he explains, hooks his arms under her legs at her startled __Oh, okay__ , and lifts her, urging her to kick off the jeans and underwear that had been pooled at her feet.

Her legs go around him, latching her body to his in their grip as he sloppily removes her shirt and bra, sending it all to the pile of clothes on the floor, and then he slams her against the wall, using it for leverage as he positions himself once again and sinks into her, this time at a quick, unrelenting pace that has her eyes rolling back, her arms wound about his shoulders, hands clasping and sinking nails into his flesh.

"Fuck, yes!" she shouts, "More."

He goes harder, faster, his grunts of ecstasy mixing with her moans, and the muffled sound of her name, mumbled incoherently against her neck when he buries his head there, has her smiling, loving that he's as far gone as she is.

"You're a fucking goddess, you know that?" he rasps, mouth hovering over hers, teeth clashing and kisses growing messier the closer they get.

In the distance, they can hear the locals beginning to yell out the final countdown, and every second that ticks is a thrust of his cock inside her, coaxing another earth shattering orgasm out of her.

_Ten…_

_Nine…_

_Eight…_

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he gasps.

_Six…_

_Five…_

"Robin, I'm gonna… I… _god, yes!_  I'm gonna come. Don't stop."

"Come with me, let me look at you... _shit!_  I'm so close, beautiful."

_Two…_

_One…_

Fireworks erupt, along with jubilant shouts announcing the arrival of 1993, and Regina explodes as the pyrotechnics gain momentum, coming wetly on his cock with a loud scream, the sound drowned by the music and hearty laughter from outside their hidden corner.

Robin follows just behind, with one final slap of his hips against hers, his body jerking as he moans and then stills, panting into her neck, making the ends of her hair lift slightly.

Her hand finds his face and brings it to hers, caressing the stubble that lines his jaw, her lips kissing him sweetly.

"Happy new year," Robin whispers into the space between them.

He smiles at her, leans in and takes her mouth again, slowly, tenderly, tongues languidly playing, savoring. When they part, he bends and drops a kiss to her collarbone.

"Happy new year," she returns with a grin, "now hand me back my pants."

* * *

 

 "It's gonna be a tough one, isn't it?" he asks later that night, when they're back in the hotel room he's been staying at for the past few weeks, naked again and cozy under the plush covers of his bed. His arm is around her, fingers trailing along her shoulder, her head using his chest as a pillow as she draws random patterns on his stomach.

"Yes," she admits, "but that's something we'll be able to deal with."

He nods his agreement against her hairline, kisses the top of her head and holds her closer, whispering the one word she knows will provide comfort in the many trials they have yet to face during their mission.

"Together."


End file.
